Let's Make a Deal
by AngelOfDeath10
Summary: AU SoMa, Maka finds herself in a situation where a demon makes her an offer she can't refuse, while Soul has no clue what he's signing himself up for. They make a good team, and Maka is sure she won't fall into the same trap her mama did, but no one put "no touching" in the contract. (Rating upped for Ch.9)
1. Chapter 1

Not sure what this is. I wanted to do one with Soul as a vampire, but somehow this came out instead. Probably going to be sporadic. Again I fail at making a true oneshot.

Disclaimer: Soul Eater isn't mine, but if it were then there'd be 100% more SoMa makeouts in it.

* * *

"Hey."

Maka could barely think. Blood ran from the cut in her forehead down her nose and dripped on the floor. It was superficial, but head wounds always bled way more than she wanted them to. It was just a small percentage of the total blood on the floor, however, now that the witch she had been fighting had given up the ghost so to speak. It hadn't been a clean kill, her mama and papa couldn't know how badly she'd flubbed this assignment. Of course, her probably cracked ribs would give her away pretty fast when she got home tomorrow night.

"Hey. Tiny tits!"

That got her attention, her green eyes focusing on a crouching figure in the corner. Taking a defensive stance, lungs still heaving painfully against ribs that protested every sigh, Maka reached for the curved blade that should have been at her hip but instead was resting in the chilling body of the witch a few feet away.

"Well, you aren't deaf even if you're clearly stupid."

The man in the corner made no move towards her and on closer inspection she saw a shimmering barrier between them. It would have been impossible for a normal person to notice the barrier, but the pentacle carved then burned into the ground would have given things away eventually. The rivulets would have housed blood for the ritual, but it seemed to have dried up prior to her battle with the witch. So the demon had been here a while. He did look… hungry.

"What do you want, cursed one?"

"No need to get hostile, clearly I can't get near you. I was just trying to get your attention." If all you had seen was the loose black jeans and the red t-shirt you might have thought that some crazy old woman had chained up a random frat boy in her basement, but the shocking white hair and glowing red eyes kind of gave up his secret.

Maka stood up slowly, one arm wrapped protectively around her aching ribs and tried to use one tired arm to pull the short sword from the witch's body. It was lodged in there pretty tightly. Ugh.

"Hey, come on, I haven't been able to talk to a non-crazy sentient being in like weeks."

"I'm not interested in what you have to say." Maka said primly. Demons were tricky and she didn't want any part in whatever he thought he could talk her into, even if he looked more like he would be suited to loafing on a couch than any real threat. Appearances were deceiving in her world, though, and she was practically the poster child for that adage. She gave another sharp tug at the sword but it wasn't budging, and Maka only succeeded in giving herself a terrible pain in her side. Soon enough the rest of the coven would come to find out what happened to their archivist, and she needed to get this house blazing before the more powerful members arrived and liberated the spell books and scrolls. This was supposed to be a recon mission only, and Maka had already overstepped her mission parameters disastrously.

"I know you're going to have to 'get rid of the evidence' and even if you send this place up in flames I'm still going to be stuck in this stupid summoning circle."

"It isn't a circle. It's a pentagram." She was really trying not to talk to him, but there were some things she couldn't ignore.

"What the fuck do you care what I call it? You're not the one who gets to be a slave to the next witch who finds me in whatever smoldering heap is left once you set this place on fire."

Maka looked over at him, startled he could guess what was about to happen.

"Oh yeah, you think they don't know what you're up to? They spend a terrible lot of time talking about Witch Hunters you know, monitoring them too. I'm surprised you got the drop on this one. She was a paranoid old bat."

"Will you just shut up?" Maka knew she was wasting time, listening to him. Already she felt kind of bad for him. It wasn't like he had asked to be imprisoned in a basement. It didn't do her any good to have soft emotions for demon spawn. The blood of angels, many times diluted, ran in her veins and shouldn't she hate this guy on sight?

The grin he gave her, showing off his pointed teeth, didn't do anything to detract from that tanned handsome face. He let a hint of desperation bleed into his words. "Look, if you let me out of here before you burn this place down I will do just about anything for you."

"You just want to steal my soul. I'm not listening to you."

"For Death's sake, woman, I'm weak from a month of being starved, trapped in a pretty rock solid summon, and you still think I'm trying to get the upper hand on you instead of being perfectly level about the fact that I'd trade anything to just get the fuck out of here?!" He ran a hand through his mass of white hair and slammed two frustrated fists against the impermeable barrier for emphasis. It crackled with electric energy and he pulled back from it quickly. "What kind of demon do you think I am anyway?"

Maka looked him up and down and took at stab at the one she had always heard was popular among witches. "Incubus?"

"No, but at least now I know you think red eyes are a turn on." He gave her a grin again, then sat down with his legs crossed and leaned back on his hands.

Blushing furiously, Maka tried to control herself to keep her anger from causing her to take those deep painful breaths that came automatically when she wanted to retaliate against someone. One rib might be broken, not just cracked. It was hard to tell.

"Here's a clue." The demon said, and immediately she saw blades spring from his shoulders, sharp as sin and twice as deadly. Her wariness turned to deep elation that she had to stuff down deep inside of herself before he saw how swiftly her mood had shifted.

A demon weapon! "Why would a witch want to summon you? Witches don't wield demon weapons."

"Yet." His words sent a chill down her spine. A witch with a demon weapon would be truly formidable. "But I wasn't going to partner up with someone like that freaky old woman. Shrieking stuff at me from the start, telling me all these things about killing and world domination… sounded like a lot of work."

That didn't go along with what she knew of demons. "World domination not your thing?" She arched an eyebrow at him and walked closer to the barrier. Something about him was mesmerizing to her, even though she knew he had no powers while isolated by the magic that kept him tied to the pentagram.

"I have other hobbies that I find more interesting…" He said evasively, but she could have sworn he might have blushed.

"You must make your parents so proud." She said sarcastically.

His glowing eyes actually dimmed a little at that, and she felt guilty even though she wasn't sure why. "So you told the witch no and she was starving you out until you said yes. What do you eat?"

"Souls." He said evenly. "But I didn't have a taste for the ones she tried to bribe me with at first. Got to have a lot of tarnish on a soul before it's appetizing."

This witch had come onto her mother's radar because she had been killing innocent people randomly and somewhat frequently, so it was nice to know he hadn't been a part of that. The desperate old woman just didn't even try to understand what she was dealing with. Every demon had its own character, even if the vast majority were pure evil. The dumb old witch just happened to snag a demon with a moral compass, or discerning taste buds.

"Anything, huh?" Maka looked down at the demon who had been almost pouting, but now sprang to his feet to walk closer to her position by the barrier. Half lidded eyes were carefully examining her from head to toe, taking in her athletic build and determined expression.

"Just about. I'd even pretend to be an incubus for you, since you seemed into that. I'll ignore how small your chest is." He shoved his hands into his pockets and gave her a sly smile, fully aware he was winding her up.

"I should leave you here to deal with the whole coven for that!" That reminded her how little time she actually had and how stupid it was that she was standing here arguing.

The demon sighed. "You sure can't take a joke."

The dried blood on her face was itching now, and the adrenaline had worn off to the point where she felt more like sagging against the barrier than arguing with the demon inside. "Not right now I can't. Here's the deal—I'll let you out only if you agree to be _my_ weapon."

"Wait a minute…" He didn't like the way things were turning, clearly.

"That means you will fight with me, you will protect me, and if it comes down to it… you will die with me." Maka knew he would never agree to something like that. It was too imbalanced. A demon would be a fool to let anyone own him with carte blanche like that. If he said no then she could turn around and walk away, and say she had tried. Once it was all burned down and after the coven had cleared out, then maybe she'd come back and release him with a proper contract written up. After years of being denied a demon weapon of her own here was the perfect opportunity!

He gave her a weighty stare, his mouth a thin tight line of displeasure, and she shrugged and turned to walk away. Disappointment weighed heavy on her mind as she considered if this might be her only chance.

"Wait!" His voice sounded strained. "You don't know what you're asking."

"You want my soul right? Well, you'd have access to it, wouldn't you? That's how a demon weapon works. We give each other power." She thought of her mama and papa, their fearsome bond, and their massive success at ridding the world of evil. But her mama had ended up losing her heart instead of her soul. Maka wouldn't be that kind of fool. "I might be back. I'm sure the witches won't torture you too badly…"

This battle had come close to killing her. If Maka was going to be as powerful as her mama, or Black Star, she was going to need a demon weapon of her own despite the warnings from her mama that it would change her. There was a reason her mama and papa had never taught her the summoning spell, and had made her swear an oath never to seek it on her own.

"My name is Soul Eater." The demon said in the silent room.

"Maka. Maka Albarn." She hadn't thought he'd really agree to this. Gaining a demon weapon usually involved contracts signed in blood, clauses of use and behavior to bind them both, or at the very least a handshake with some spit on it. Demons were about legality and they didn't just do things on the fly.

"Maka Albarn, your blood is my blood, your heart is my heart, your mind is my mind." It was only half of the binding; she could feel the magic waiting for a response. He would be hers but she would be free unless she wanted to reciprocate. This was the most trust any being had ever put in her hands and she was slightly awestruck that the only man that had taken her breath away in her two decades of life would be a supposedly soulless creature. He looked stricken as he clutched his chest and fell to the ground. "Fuck me, I didn't think it would feel like that!"

"Demon!" Maka rushed as quickly as she could to the barrier. There was a faint glow around him, and a sheen of sweat over his skin. It looked like he was wincing against a pain stark enough to have him biting at his lips. Blood so dark it looked black oozed out slowly from the cuts his teeth were causing.

"It's like someone dropped a anvil on my chest! I need some time to adjust to this. I'm going to transform for a while, if you can get us both out before you get turned into a ball of ash by an angry witch…" Maka sputtered indignantly, and he gave her a pained smile as his body elongated and thinned out. A shining scythe lay where a man had been before.

 _Pick me up, Maka._ His voice came directly into her head, more like a whisper than anything. _I belong to you now so the binding should allow you to remove me from the circle._

"Pentagram." She said automatically.

 _Oh for fuck's sake…_

The barrier was just a tingle as she reached through it, and she could feel the tension singing in his demon steel as she pulled him out. If a blade could sag with relief, Soul certainly did once he was out of the summoning spell.

"That heaviness you feel is because our souls are connected now." Maka said, ignoring her sword still lodged in the witch and trudging up the basement steps to go find something to start a fire with. "It will be extra hard for you to adjust at first because I have a somewhat unique family trait." Every few generations there was a grigori soul, but she didn't want to give everything about herself away just yet. The feeling of Soul slipping around in her mind was too foreign and her walls were firmly in place.

She had never trained with a scythe before, only pole arms occasionally to mix things up, but Soul's weight and the balance felt weirdly right. It was her mother's weapon of choice, not hers, but this seemed like fate. The urge to swing him around and laugh was powerful, but her ribs kept reminding her that freedom of motion was a luxury she'd have to wait a while to gain back.

 _You're petty hurt. I couldn't guess it before, but I can feel it now._ It almost sounded like concern. The eye she had thought was painted near where blade met shaft blinked suddenly, and Maka gripped him even more tightly. She always fought fear by pulling it closer to her heart.

"The witches are coming. I don't have enough time to start a fire. Damn it! They'll see everything and they'll know who did this…" Her mama would beat the living snot out of her for being so careless if she got out of here alive.

 _We'll be fine. Just get that tightly puckered little ass of yours out of here right now._ His buzzing amusement at her indignation over his reference to her body parts had her swearing darkly that once she got home she'd store him in a closet for sure.

The rental car she'd used to get to this remote farmhouse was parked nearly a mile away. She started to slog her way through the marshy woods towards her car, and felt the souls of the coven quickly intensify. They were close. She had lingered with Soul too long in that basement and she'd be lucky to get away from this alive.

 _Do you have cable?_ Soul sounded so wistful, she actually did smile, feeling her split lip open up painfully again.

"Yes."

Waves of contentment came off of her demon weapon, calming her. Maka suddenly realized that since he was stuck here on this plane of existence now instead of the Infernal realm, he would have to live in her tiny one bedroom apartment with her. He had no money, no clothes, and no I.D. The hope of keeping this a secret for even a little while was basically a pipe dream.

"Better learn to love the couch…" she said, to Soul's general confusion.


	2. Chapter 2

I did not seek out write this, but it seems to need to exorcise itself from my mind. After this hopefully the vampire thing I WANTED to write will be the next thing. And a oneshot. My brain is ignoring mission parameters!

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

"Oi Tsubaki, you got a minute?" Soul walked over and plunked down next to her on the ground.

Black Star was napping under a tree while the demon weapon looked out at the park in front of them. Maka was sitting on a blanket and reading. She was on an enforced vacation while her ribs healed and the higher ups decided what to do with her now that she had both failed a mission and gained a demon. It was more attention than Soul liked, but Maka seemed to be taking it in stride. Her fingers were tapping out a rhythm next to her unconsciously, a habit she swore up and down hadn't started until she and Soul had become partners. The air was just starting to turn cold, autumn so close you could almost taste it.

"I have no objections." Tsubaki gave a facsimile of a disarming smile, something she did often to put people at ease around her. Every demon weapon had a tell, something that let people know they weren't quite human, and with Tsubaki it was more like a feeling something wasn't quite right the closer you got to her: her eyes were too dark, her hair too shiny, or maybe her body too shapely. For a demon, she seemed improbably kind and if she and Black Star had been in a lineup and you said 'pick the demon' she would have lost to her loud master every time.

"Is Spirit, like, really Maka's dad? Or is this some bit of insanity that infected him from his master?"

Tsubaki started and then looked around guiltily. "We don't really talk about those things…"

"Well, it's not like he makes it a secret what with him fawning all over her every time she gets in visual range of him. She's clearly no demon, I would have noticed by now. It just seems like it's weird she'd let some guy who isn't her dad call himself her dad…" Soul didn't think it made any sense. Normally he wouldn't care, but a small part of him wanted to have some kind of ammo against the annoying older demon. Being able to say _I know you're not Maka's real dad_ seemed like the perfect cutting remark, and Soul loved cutting all sorts of things.

"You've only been Maka's weapon a couple weeks, Soul. You should probably talk to her yourself once you two have gotten to bond a little more."

Soul huffed out a sigh and leaned back against the tree. "That's the thing, Spirit is around like, every spare moment he isn't on a mission making sure I'm not _taking advantage_ of his precious princess of a daughter. The only time we've had any peace and quiet is when we sleep."

His sleep wasn't very restful either on Maka's lumpy old couch with the spring that poked him in the back just so and the slight smell of old popcorn that it gave off. She had promised him she was looking for a new apartment, but it would take a little while before they could move. At least when he was up all night he could watch TV on his own without fighting over who got to choose the channel. Secretly, now and then, he would walk past Maka's bedroom door on the way to the bathroom and pause just long enough that it might be considered creepy if she ever opened it at that exact moment. Maka was often on his mind even when she didn't have to be.

"Spirit seems to think all demon scythes are the same, and he remembers rather clearly when he was your age. He told me to tell him if you tried anything today." Tsubaki smiled apologetically. "I wouldn't want to see Maka hurt either." There was steel behind her words that Soul didn't like. It seems no one trusted him.

Soul gave Tsubaki a slightly annoyed sideways glance, hiding his anger imperfectly. He'd sworn his life to Maka, and the idea that he wasn't a man of his word was insulting. They were bound by their very souls and people still didn't trust him to do his job. He'd show them all, they would be the most powerful team ever!

"Don't get me wrong, Soul, I don't think you'd harm her physically but…"

"You can't believe what that crazy codger is saying! I'm not out to eat Maka's soul!" Soul was so vehement that Black Star actually grimaced in his sleep, eyelids fluttering. The weapons both stilled so the blue haired man could sigh and roll over before they continued to talk.

"What happened between Spirit and Kami was terrible, and it fractured their family and put our whole organization in danger for a time. I think her parents just didn't want her to repeat their mistake."

Whatever had happened between Spirit and his master, Soul felt like it was making his current life miserable _now_ and that he was entitled to some answers before Spirit finally lost his marbles and snuck into their apartment to castrate Soul in his sleep. In the fading afternoon sunlight, Maka had fallen asleep on the blanket with her book still in hand. This break wouldn't last long, she had another month before she would be healed enough to be back on active assignment and he knew she wasn't managing her pain so much as gritting her teeth against it. Maka was a tough girl, she never complained about her pain she just stored up her ill humor to gripe at him for forgetting to do chores or smacking him for insensitive comments. He admired how she didn't ask for help.

"Maka and I are not Kami and Spirit." Soul said definitively.

Tsubaki smiled at him apologetically. "But you have to admit, you can't blame everyone for freaking out when the witch hunter who was never supposed to have a demon weapon came home with the same rare weapon type her mother was famous for using."

"You're just as rare," Soul wondered what it was like to be able to have so much variety in transformation. It must be really cool.

"But I also have a typical contract with Black Star. Signed in blood. Locked in a chest and buried in a secure location." Contracts were sacred; contracts were safe and clear… if Maka had scandalized her family by binding herself to a weapon then Soul had scandalized his fellow demons by binding himself without a contract. He wasn't sure if they were envious of him or worried for him.

"Maka won't take advantage, that's not who she is." Soul wasn't sure who Maka was, but he believed in her. Up until this point she'd never forced him to do something he wasn't prepared to do. No one but them knew that the binding had not been completed. He was truly her slave until she bound herself to him as well, and she hadn't told anyone of that fact yet. Soul was almost grateful Spirit was an annoying busybody because if he was alone with Maka all day he might be more nervous about the imbalance in power.

"No, Maka isn't like that." Tsubaki agreed, but her brows still knit in concern as she followed Soul's eye to his sleeping master.

* * *

"I'm showering now." Maka took showers in the evening, Soul had learned. It came from showering after training and then later after missions. Going to bed covered in sweat and blood was not her idea of a restful night, and even when she was not dirty she still preferred showering at night from habit.

She had only asked him one favor since he had begun to live here with her two weeks ago, and that was to blow-dry and comb her hair after her shower. Lifting her arms up and moving the dryer around had been nearly impossible to do without lots of painful hissing, and eventually she had come up to him and very nicely asked if this was something he would be willing to consider. He wondered if she understood that she didn't need to ask him. She could order him to do just about anything and the binding would compel him pretty strongly to obey.

If having a master was this painless, then he should have done it a long time ago and escaped his ridiculously overbearing family. Of course, once she was all healed and they started training together, he assumed more work would be involved. Tomorrow they had to go to some central agency that evaluated and assigned missions to the various hunters. He wasn't relishing that so much.

Between spacing out in front of a crime drama and worrying about tomorrow, Maka managed to get her shower and then practically materialize in front of him with a towel around her shoulders and the brush and dryer in her hands. Soul muted the TV as she sat down on the floor in front of him while he plugged the dryer in near the couch.

They never talked about this. It was almost sensual the way Maka closed her eyes and let Soul run the brush through her hair. She'd tilt her head just so as the warm air washed over her, and Soul found his dark blood would rush through his body uncomfortably when he saw the contented smile that pushed at her lips. The bruising and the cuts had recently completely faded from her body leaving smooth pale skin in its wake. Every now and then he'd notice the line of a scar. More often than not he'd want to trace a finger over them.

He could feel her emotions leak over when she was most tired, and tonight she must have been pretty tired as her soul was practically purring. It sent tingles of feeling in places it really shouldn't, and Soul reminded himself that thinking of her as anything but the wielder of a demon weapon and a human was dangerous territory.

"Is there anything I need to know for tomorrow?" Soul broke through the drone of the dryer. That disconcerting purr from her soul was immediately masked as her defenses came up along with her focus.

"They're probably going to formally ask us how we came to be partnered. We will have to be honest about the circumstances, but I don't think we have to tell them everything."

The silence between them was thick as Soul finally shut off the dryer. "Have you thought about it?"

Maka bit her lip and drew her legs up into herself. "I can't do it yet, Soul. It isn't about you, you've been great so far. Really, I've had roommates before and most of them couldn't stand me, but we get along."

"No one is more surprised than me." Soul grumbled, trying not to let his disappointment show that she wasn't ready to finish the binding.

"Let me get a little stronger, and then we'll see how we resonate. I think I'll be more ready then." It didn't feel like a lie, not exactly, but Soul wondered if maybe she had told this to herself so many times that she was lying to herself first. Maka was nervous about binding herself to her weapon, and he knew it all came back to Kami and Spirit somehow. Maybe one of these mysterious authority figures could shed some light on it.

When Maka retreated back to her bedroom she left the lingering scent of her shampoo on his hands. Soul wondered with a frown when it was that he started noticing little things like that about her. Surely two weeks didn't change a man, but whatever this binding was, he was different than how he used to be in some imperceptible way.

* * *

The cross examination had been disturbing to Soul, Maka knew that much. She hadn't been called into evaluations more than a couple of times in the past five years of active duty, as compared to practically every third month like Black Star. Every now and then people had to be judged mentally sound to continue with the work they did. Corruption and a fall from grace was an ever-present possibility in their work as the toll of sanctioned murder ate at people's minds. Only a few hunters could sustain active duty more than a couple decades, if they lived that long.

The usual biographical details were extracted from Maka, but then they had done the same to Soul. While Kid, Sid, and Stein had asked Maka her questions, Marie and Nygus asked Soul his. Liz and Patty had looked on, impassive or bored (she could never really tell). In the end they had been satisfied that Maka's actions of partnering had not been premeditated and that no ill will seemed to be present on Soul's part. Continued monitoring and a downgrade in difficulty for missions were going to be their next six months. Emotionally exhausted, they had deflated once out of the examination room.

"What the hell was that really about!" Soul turned on Maka immediately and she wondered if his level of menace towards her needed to be reevaluated. "What did they mean our compatibility was 'suspiciously high'?!"

"My mama was a scythe user, not by choice but because she tested high for compatibility with demon scythe-type weapons and then purposefully summoned them until she found one. It was risky of her to keep trying, but she was stubborn." Maka had heard the story many times, told in various ways and various mental states by a mother she idolized. The last telling she remembered had been her least favorite. "When she finally found papa, she was so overjoyed…"

"If he was the same as he was now she should have just banished him back to the Infernal plane." Soul was following Maka through the twists and turns of the underground levels of the inconspicuous building they had entered to visit the mysterious authority that directed all witch hunting activity for their region.

Usually, when Maka started rambling about something Soul would start looking around and clearly distract himself from her words. Today, however, he was keenly waiting on what she had to say next. It was a refreshing change of pace so Maka kept going with her story as they walked.

"They were the greatest partnership of their generation and she had made papa a real Deathscythe before they could legally drink. At their celebration banquet papa apparently spiked the punch." A fond smile curled her lip before she stopped it in its tracks. "Sid told me that once a while ago, he's the one that was sitting to our right."

"…Nygus' master, eh?" Soul shuddered. Something about Nygus seemed off to him, even for a demon.

Maka lowered her voice to stop the echo effect of the stone hallway. "They're worried we're too old, Soul."

"You're kidding." Soul was absently shredding the lower corner of his t-shirt with one tiny scythe index finger. Maka restrained herself from slapping it away. They would need to buy him more clothes soon at this rate.

She shook her head and lowered her voice even more, leaning closer to him to deliver her message quickly. It was more than likely they were being monitored even now.

"There's a reason hunters are paired with weapons while the weapon and the hunter are young. By rights we shouldn't resonate hardly at all. They are watching us to make sure we aren't at one another's throats.." Her greed for a weapon could have been the end of her. The loud lecture she had earned from Kami once she had gotten out of the hospital a week ago had been followed with a slap to her face so painful she swore she could still feel it. She was reaching for power she wasn't meant to have. Her death would be her own fault. No one seemed to have faith in her besides the one person that she shouldn't trust.

Soul hissed a breath out through his sharp teeth. "So that's why everyone thinks I'm going to kill you…"

Maka started at that. She hadn't realized Soul was getting harassed just as much as she was, only in a different manner. He hadn't clued her in to it. Was that his own way of protecting her? She felt defensive on his behalf, and swore to herself to look out for when people were isolating him to talk. All this fuss and they didn't even know she hadn't finished the binding. That was a shitstorm she'd rather avoid as well.

"Then again, you _do_ chew pretty loudly when you eat chips. One of these days…"

"Don't even joke about that, Soul."

"What _can_ I joke about then? How about how you dress like a demented schoolgirl? OW! Death's sake Maka that fuckin' hurts!" He clutched the back of his head where she had firmly dealt the blow. Maka didn't flinch even though his skull had been so hard it had hurt her too, next time she should use something else beside her hand.


	3. Chapter 3

Had to happen, back to comedy soon though (I can't sustain drama except in real life). Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

Training had been extra hard today. Stein had remarked that their resonance rate was not as powerful as even a week ago. Maka said it was from the stress of moving, but they both knew she was lying even if Stein wasn't the kind of person who would call that out. If she wanted to claim that to the world, then that was her choice. Marie, Stein's uncommonly human seeming demon weapon, was knitting a scarf in the corner and using her one uncovered eye to look over them compassionately. Knowing Stein, he would encourage Marie to interrogate Maka about their stifled resonance rate later. She was a pro at mothering people into a sense of safety.

Honestly, though, moving had been hellish.

It hadn't started well when Soul had 'accidentally' dropped her couch out of their third story window in five neatly sliced pieces. He had been giving her a self-satisfied sharky grin out of the window when she had run up all three stories of stairs to smack him with the broom that that been the nearest convenient thing on her way in.

"Goddam it Maka, stop!"

"You are paying for a new couch as soon as you start making some money!" Her savings were depleting without steady missions, and Soul had no appreciation for budgeting having never had to manage money before. "And how, may I ask, are we going to watch TV now?!"

Maka had been punctuating each word with a broom smack, but Soul had finally had enough and turned his arm into a blade so the next hit severed the top off the broom entirely. Now she needed a new broom, too!

"I'll go to Black Star's! He actually has a TV big enough that I don't have to squint to see what's going on!"

"Black Star doesn't have cable." Maka countered, still quivering in anger. Soul's smug grin faded entirely and after staring at one another for a bit he grumbled out something that, if you looked at it sideways might have approached an apology for ruining her couch.

She had made him carry all the boxes of books down the stairs by himself as punishment. It was hard for her to admit it, but by demolishing the couch they had easily enough room to make the move in one trip with the rental van. Telling him it was his job to move all the books belatedly seemed a little cruel, so she also sprang for his favorite burgers that night. Human food would keep his energy level until she could start feeding him corrupted souls. They were both eager for her to start working again.

So, that night, equally exhausted they had crashed on pillows on the floor in their new living room in front of the TV that had been propped up on book boxes and woodenly eaten their food while a superhero saved people trapped on a speeding bus and explosions lit the nearly pitch black room. She hadn't had time to set up her bed or her bedroom in general, and with a full belly she had blinked back tiredness. Soul's silent presence was weirdly comfortable, in a way she never felt with humans. They were connected through her soul, so maybe that was a part of it…

Awaking to the flash of bright lights as the muted TV played its late night trash programming, Maka felt the fuzzy teeth she hadn't brushed with her tongue and then registered the arm around her middle like a steel band.

Dawning horror confirmed her weapon spooning her on the floor in their nest of blankets and pillows. Logically she knew it wasn't personal. It was cold in here, fall having arrived in force, and he didn't have anything besides jeans and t-shirts until they bought him some coats. They also had no sheets for his newly purchased bed that was similarly unmade in the second bedroom. Demons ran hot, she realized, as the skin of his forearm seemed to sear the thin strip of belly that was exposed from her shirt riding up.

This was how she was going to die.

With no contract he wasn't obliged to keep her alive outside of battle, there was just the promise of souls for him to eat that kept them loosely allied, and the fact that their binding was uneven so she could order him to stop if he seemed to become dangerous… but if she was unconscious she couldn't give orders. He could kill and eat her easily while she was helpless, severing their bond and freeing himself at the low cost of a piece of his soul and possibly his sanity. The wards she set up in her bedroom would prevent him from getting too close to her, but it was a new apartment and if he had been looking for an opening tonight would have been the chance.

Maka hadn't grown up with a demon weapon of her own, and setting the wards weren't second nature to her the way they would have been to a more experienced master. The smarter masters included clauses in their contracts to cover the eventuality of unconsciousness through sleep or other avenues, but not everyone was so thorough in negotiations. Finding a weapon with his master's soul between his teeth happened every now and then to the youngsters. It was exactly the outcome everyone expected of them.

"…moving around." Soul's grumble stirred hair on the back of her neck and she suddenly felt more awake than ever, and far too conscious of the arm at her middle that could so easily turn deadly if Soul was of a mind to hurt her.

"What?"

"Stop moving around so much." His sleepy voice was a whine as he pulled her closer. Every hard plane of his body molded into her back.

He slid a leg in between hers and she stiffened automatically. There was no way he was doing this on purpose, putting them in such an intimate position, but her body was starting to respond involuntarily. Her papa had warned her, men on any plane of existence only wanted one thing and weren't to be trusted. It was the only topic on which both her mama and papa completely agreed even though they had not spoken to one another directly in years.

"I need to brush my teeth." Maka said as she extracted herself. Soul just grumbled and curled into a ball to retain the warmth he had lost. He gave a soft snort and his breathing evened out as she watched him from the corner that turned towards the bathroom.

Soul seemed so human sometimes, and it was getting under her skin. He hardly asked her about completing the binding anymore, either, and she wondered what that meant. They would never be true partners until she fulfilled her piece and let him have equal access to her as she had to him.

She made sure to set the wards that night before she slept on her cold bare mattress.

* * *

"Thanks Liz. I'll pay you back for it soon." Maka ran her fingers over the thick black leather of the jacket that had until a moment ago been Kid's.

"No worries. I cut a button off of one of the pockets." She pointed to the lower left side and Maka noted the loose threads. "He was going to throw it away anyway, so this works out."

Maka didn't conjecture what kind of argument had ended with Liz doing something so inflammatory to her OCD master. There was dirt under Liz's normally immaculately manicured nails so Maka suspected it had something to do with a recent mission Liz wasn't too happy he'd taken. With Maka out of commission so long even Kid had been picking up missions to help with the approaching busy Halloween season. Witches always got more active around October and right up until the winter solstice.

"Seriously, I appreciate it. I asked Tsubaki first, but Black Star is too short and too muscular. Everything was baggy and at the same time Soul looked like a teen outgrowing his clothes…. We had to give all the stuff back to her except some t-shirts."

"Glad to help." Liz got a canny look on her face. "How are things with you and Soul, anyway?" Gossip was Liz's lifeblood and Maka felt like she owed the demon woman a little scrap of something for coming through so well with sourcing Soul a winter coat.

"I can't imagine life before him, actually." It was true. It was alarmingly true.

Liz tapped her lip with her finger and gave Maka a knowing grin. "Good to know. I hear you've got a mission coming your way soon, by the way. It'll be nice to have you back on the job." Anything that kept Liz from fieldwork made her happy.

"Thanks again, Liz. I better go find Soul before he pokes his head into some roped off room or something." Soul had a habit of going wherever he felt like it that had only been exacerbated by his incomprehensible friendship with Black Star.

Actually locating her weapon wasn't a problem. She scanned around for his soul using the ability she still hadn't confessed to him she possessed. Not many of the other hunters knew what she could do, or why she had been able to stay alive for so many years without a weapon to protect her and watch her back. Maka's unique family heritage was a moderately closely guarded secret. That pulsing energy, but particularly the shape and heft of Soul's own spiritual signature, led her down twisting hallways deep into the training hallways. Towards the end, across from a kitchenette where she remembered drinking coffee once while Nygus patched up her thigh from an accident before taking her to the infirmary, she heard Soul before she saw him.

It was a rec room, designed for breaks between training, but hardly anyone ever went in there. The dusty ping-pong table had been the main feature. The old piano that sat in the corner had been covered in tarps and she hadn't even remembered its existence until this moment as Soul ran his fingers over the keys. It was a playful melody, but not one she knew. Apparently, even after six weeks together, they both still had plenty of secrets from one another despite being together all the time.

Soul was so absorbed in what he was doing that he didn't notice her until she was halfway across the room. The music died then, suddenly, as he snatched his hands back from it with something both guilty and angry lighting up those glowing red eyes of his.

"I didn't know you could—"

"I can't." He interrupted her flatly.

"But it was beautiful," Finding out her demon could do something so expressive, so atypical, it made her greedy. "Play something for me."

No longer guilty, now simply furious, he grit out between sharp teeth. "I don't…"

"Play something you want to play, Soul."

With a strangled cry from the back of his throat, his hands came down on the keys forcefully, the old piano straining to keep up with him. This wasn't the gentle melody from before, this was an atonal nightmare. It leapt around to Maka's ears, reminding her of something she's always wanted and couldn't have. There was strife and triumph, there was passion and loss of control. By the last crashing note she couldn't tell you if she liked it or not, but there was an edge of need that had her wishing it hadn't ended. Soul's breaths were coming quickly, and if she didn't know better she'd think he was at the edge of hyperventilating.

"Are you ok, Soul?" Her hand crept towards his shoulder, touching him as natural as breathing for her these days, gloves or no.

" _Don't_." His skin was twitching, and she could see sweat running down his temples to mingle with the blood running down his chin. He'd clearly bitten through his lip with his sharp teeth possibly hard enough he'd need a stitch or two before they left.

His suffering was her suffering, to a certain extent, if she chose to open up to let their souls brush, but instead she balled her hands in the jacket she carried with her still and tried not to feel hurt by his strange mood.

"If you're sick, then we need to get you to Nygus for diagnosis right away."

"Just go away."

"You have to communicate better with me, how do I know how I can help you unless you make me understand?"

His laughter held an edge as he turned eyes like stoked fire embers her way, then quick as an eye blink he was on top of her. Soul's knee pressed hard into her only recently healed ribs and she felt them warp and ache under the pressure, while the blade that used to be his arm slid against the concrete floor by her head and raised sparks. When he spoke, it was with enough force that bloody spit from his mouth hit her cheek. Through it all Maka did not even flinch, but inside her world crumbled. Staring death in the face was her job but she was still that little girl who feared… so many things.

"You want to understand, Maka?" Her name was a taunt from his lips. "What will you have me do for you next? Another song perhaps? Shall I play until my skin wears thin?" This didn't feel like Soul, not the one she was used to, but then clearly she'd crossed a line she hadn't known existed. "You have to sleep sometime!" He laughed to himself, looking around the room but focusing on everything but the woman under him. His knee pressed in harder, forcing a gasped breath from her lungs.

Calming her rising panic she tried to examine their interactions for what had set him off. There had been no indication until this point that he was harboring madness so close to the surface, and she let that thought sink in as she finally lit on what seemed like an answer.

"Soul Eater, your blood is my blood…" The unfamiliar tang of magic gave her a metallic taste on her tongue while the room blurred. After being delayed so long, the words tumbled in a rush from her mouth as if they had been waiting those months for her to come to her senses. The magic had been taut and was whipping back at her, a rubber band pulled too far only to snap at her mind and body.

The dark blade that had been Soul's arm looked like flesh again in her peripheral vision as the pressure on her chest lessened. Maka was still speaking but she couldn't hear her words. The binding was completed and still more words worked their way directly to her mouth from some part of her unconscious mind. At some point she realized she was screaming, not speaking. She finally understood what he had meant by an anvil on her chest, but it still felt lighter than when he had been poised above her a moment ago. Or was that an hour ago?

… _Binding one soul to another is magic, but as it is initiated by your demon weapon it isn't considered your magic simply an extension of theirs_. Stein's voice was calming, and those days in class he was teaching were always informative even if he usually insisted on doing live anatomy study at the end of every day. Was it just too dorky that her happy place was back in school? Life was so simple then, all books and tests, with combat training every morning and evening. _Once completed you will be expected to shield yourself from the psychic bleed of thoughts and emotions. Now find a partner—no Black Star you can't work with Killik—and today we're going to practice concentration exercises…_

The hopeless pressure had lifted and Maka felt like she was floating. Were those hands around her neck? Were they hers? No, that was a hand over her mouth. Then she was falling…

Focusing on the lights above her in the infirmary only gave Maka that thin pain that seemed to be slicing her to ribbons from the inside. It was worse than a migraine, but she welcomed it since it probably meant she was still alive. Turning away from the ceiling, she saw dim red eyes fixated on her, his mouth covered with steepled hands, his slumped seated position putting him close to her face. Behind him, monitoring them both, Nygus sat with her hunter's patience. Her head was tilted, as her unblinking eyes regarded them with something as close to curiosity as Maka had ever seen. It was hard to tell through the bandages she wrapped around herself.

"You should have told me about the madness." Maka said to Soul, her voice so hoarse and painful that she had no doubt she'd been screaming for quite some time prior to waking.

"You shouldn't have made me play." Soul responded tightly. Their newly completed bond exposed his raw anger smoldering inside of him before, with wide eyes, he realized he was broadcasting and the connection went silent. He'd have to adjust to everything going both ways, as would she.

If he hated her so much why hadn't he just ended her when he had the chance? He'd had opportunity and motive, much more so than a few nights ago. Maybe she shouldn't question her good luck. Looking at a miracle too closely might ruin it, like being told how a trick was performed at a stage show. When his hands finally dropped away from his mouth, she was shocked to find he covered her own with those too hot fingers, squeezing gently before pulling away. Shamefully, that little bit of concern brought a tear to her eyes. She closed them quickly rather than let him see. Maka had had enough weakness for one day.

She'd need to remind him to go get the jacket in that room at some point. It was probably getting dirty on the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

Whaaaaat? Got home from work and just had to write more. Yarrrrrr second update today. Thanks again to those that are enjoying the journey!

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

They were running for what felt like forever.

More specifically, Maka was running while Soul weighed down her hands in his scythe form and hoped they hadn't lost the lizard man they had spooked out of the sewers. Those 'crocodile attacks' had been suspiciously specific to the same blond haired blue eyed women of a certain age, and yet no one but the Shibusen would connect it to magical interference. Serial killings of humans were not something found in nature.

Easy assignment. Right. This guy moved fast, and the tail he had gave him enough balance to turn on a dime. The temperature at night in this tiny Florida burb was nice as could be, but the unexpected humidity was making his hilt slip around in Maka's bare hands just enough to be uncomfortable for both of them. They hadn't been practicing together that long. He had told her she should wear the gloves, but she had insisted it was too hot.

He was so bored. Maka ran, the map of the small city memorized from earlier guiding her no doubt. She might be a fashion victim and a nerd, but this wasn't her first rodeo and Soul had every faith she'd catch up to this freak even on his home turf. So Soul let his mind wander to yesterday before they caught their flight…

* * *

"Soul Eater." He had been picking up the suitcase from headquarters with all of the prepared materials to study on the plane. Maka had taken the mission suddenly, sure she was ready for active duty even though he knew she secretly still woke up in a cold sweat nearly every night as part of the after effects of their delayed binding. She was fighting to get back to normal, and Soul wasn't about to tattle on her difficulties adjusting. Their resonance rates had been spot on.

"Nygus." The part-time nurse freaked him out. Arguably Soul was the most demon-like of all the demon weapons, but if he had met Nygus in a dark alley in the Infernal realm he would have run the hell away. Dreadlocks and piercing eyes seemed to strip him of his pretenses, and he needed those to feel normal.

Snapping the case shut he finally gave her his full attention, which she would silently wait for until civilization fell if need be. Sid was an expert in stealth, he understood, and with her patience matching his they must be a terrifying duo in the field.

"We've come to understand you have been asking questions." Ah, so she was using the royal 'we'. Here on official business then.

"Isn't that what a new weapon should do?" So what if he'd been poking around? Everyone else had gotten to learn the ropes since they were kids and here he was nearly fully grown and thrown into the madness that was Maka's life.

"Before you head out into the field and encounter agents from other branches, we felt like there needed to be clarification."

This was the most she had even spoken, he thought, because she took long pauses after each sentence as if needing to recharge before the next one began.

"On the record, Kami Albarn and Spirit have a partnership and no daughter. They are retired due to injury." She paused again, letting it sink in. Soul felt glee budding inside of him as the ammo he'd wanted from day one fell into his lap against the red-haired idiot that made his life hell for no reason other than his cohabitation with Maka. "While we are aware that in proximity to base Spirit takes liberties with emotional expression, you will never refer to Maka Albarn as 'Spirit's daughter'."

His conniving grin made his intentions too obvious.

"And if you value the life of yourself and your partner you will curtail your emotions for Maka Albarn."

 _That_ wiped the smile right off his face.

* * *

 _Are you always this slow?_ If Soul could yawn at that moment, he would have.

Maka zipped an irritated feeling his way through their connection before she turned down a dark corner that forked off into a cul de sac. Grim happiness marked her sense that she was closing in on her quarry. Soul wasn't sure how she knew where to go, but he was glad she was getting there. He hadn't had a proper meal in ages.

 _Your hands are sweaty and it's gross. You should have worn gloves._ He was grumbling, unable to contribute any other way to the chase.

They both spied the flash of tail headed for a large drain. Hopefully it was too small to fit the murderous beast, and it would be forced to stand and fight. Maka was probably hoping the same, but he could feel her waffling apprehension.

 _Don't worry we got this guy. I'm amazing and you're a lot better than you started._ That first time in the woods when she had caught him on all sorts of tree branches, even dropping him once on the way to the car, had been so traumatic he wasn't going to let her forget it. He had landed in mud. Smelly mud!

That at least got a smile from her, and Soul felt that warm feeling inside he'd been experiencing a lot around her recently. But then that just took him right back to his conversation with Nygus…

* * *

"Whatever. I don't have emotions for Maka. Whatever you think you see is probably just spillover from her sloppy resonance."

"We've considered that. However, there have been instances in which you've been given opportunities to end your association and you have not capitalized on them as logic and precedent would dictate."

Soul paced across the room, grabbing handfuls of his hair. "Are you saying I'm suspicious because I _didn't_ murder my master?!" The leather jacket was creaking as he gesticulated in exasperation. It only reminded him further of the terrible (wonderful?) day when Maka nearly died at his hand. He still remembered how close to madness he had been, driven by his music harder and faster than ever before, only to be shocked back to sanity by what had been the equivalent of a cold shower applied to his soul when she had finished the binding.

The reason he knew she hardly slept at night was because he was already awake to hear her pacing outside his door. Her screams and convulsions from that day were just REM sleep away for him, and he hated that they disturbed him.

"If you were in my place, would you have killed Sid?"

"Yes." Her voice was steady and quick. Maybe he should have expected something like that. Nygus was the model of a demon weapon, all sharpness and no softness. "With no contract to fault on, and only a small soul penalty, it is the only smart choice to make in your situation. Your power would have increased a hundred fold and you would have been able to return to the Infernal realm a demon lord."

Soul closed his gaping mouth with a snap only to feel his teeth grind together in anger.

"Not everything is about seeking power." He said the first thing that came to him, immediately sensing his error.

"Then you will have to tell us what else defines your partnership. In time." Soul was dismissed. He could hear it in her tone, and she turned to walk away while he fumed. Anything else he said, regardless of his intentions, would only incriminate him further in the minds of the establishment. "You act as irregularly as Spirit. We can't afford another Kami Albarn."

Soul was left with a sour taste in his mouth as Nygus left him to finish taking inventory of the supplies. Being compared to Spirit was deeply uncool.

* * *

"I don't usually go for green eyes, but I'll make an exception for you little girl." The beast smiled with what looked like three sets of teeth in a jaw that only wanted to accommodate one. On closer examination Soul felt like his were sharper. Ugh, and cleaner.

"I'd offer you mercy, but that would be a lie." Maka only spoke to circle around to the left and give herself better positioning for the reaping motion Soul needed to be most effective. They weren't well practiced enough for fancy moves, but this creature didn't seem to have any tricks if you had reach on it.

"I wish all the girls were so willing to play. Mostly they just screamed as I pealed the muscle from their bones…"

Maka wasn't even listening to him, as she swept across and up with Soul gleefully arcing through the air. The lizard man put down one heavily armored forearm, expecting to stop her in mid-swipe. Normal metal would never have pierced his reinforcements but demon steel was otherworldly and the creature was cleft in two as easily as the old couch Soul had hated.

The screech it gave as its innards spilled on the ground and it's soul condensed into a tightly spinning red ball obviously hurt Maka's ears because she crinkled up her face against it. To her credit she never lost her hold on Soul, but the choice was taken from her as he transformed so quickly he stumbled and landed hard on his hip.

The soul was delicious as he chewed it into its basic energy essence and let it nourish parts of him that were impossible to liken to any digestive system humans diagramed. Maybe it was more like being a rechargeable battery, only the more energy he put in the larger the battery got, in time. Soul felt amazing, he wanted to pick Maka up and twirl her around, but he thought again of Nygus and put a hard stop on that impulse.

Maka had her hands on her knees, still trying to get her breath back entirely from the long run she'd been subjected to before the extremely short battle.

"We have to go, Soul. No time for clean up. See those lights that came on after the scream? Cops'll be here soon, or worse—neighborhood watch. Scared people with guns and not much training… There's a reason Killik won't take jobs in Florida."

"Need help?" He said with a smirk playing on his lips. Soul felt like he could bench press a building and run a marathon with the abomination's soul singing in his body.

Maka snorted and put a hand on her side where she no doubt had a stitch. "First one back to the hotel gets a hot shower!"

As he gave her a slight head start he realized with a frown that while she had memorized the city map he had barely glanced at it. He took off at speed to catch her before she was out of visual range even as the red and blue lights passed them by to go evaluate the grisly scene they had abandoned.

* * *

Soul was in such a good mood he didn't even feel a scrap of offense as she set her wards around her single mattress in the crappy hotel room they were sharing. His own similarly lumpy single was just an arms length away, but he knew spiritually the distance was much farther. Hadn't he proved he wasn't going to kill her on a whim? Maybe the way Nygus thought was the norm and he was just a freak. Maybe all scythes really were imbalanced.

"Hey Maka, what's up with your parents?"

She was brushing out her wet hair, letting it air dry for once. Even though Soul had beaten her back to the hotel he had let her have the first shower anyway, and she had been ready for bed before he had gotten done with his own cool shower. It was so late it was early, but Soul was too wound up from getting his first proper meal since being dumped on this mortal plane to even think about sleep.

The sigh she gave seemed to come from somewhere deep. "I wondered when you were going to ask me."

"What?"

"Everyone warned me you were poking around. I kind of hoped you'd just forget about it…"

"What the hell, you just let me make an ass of myself with everyone I know? What the hell kind of partner are you?" Soul grumbled and shook his head so that his wet hair sprayed everything around him including Maka.

"Oh very mature!" She wrinkled her nose in his direction, sitting cross legged on the bed in her sleeping shorts and shirt. Soul stared at her a second longer than he meant to and then crossed the room quickly to turn up the AC a little more. When she protested him freezing them out, he mumbled something about humidity.

It was hard to let go of the parent thing, though, and his brain was buzzing with fresh energy and deep confusion over Nygus' accusations. Every few minutes, while Maka tried to fall asleep with a book in hand, he kept prodding her for an answer. Eventually, he figured, she had to crack.

"AUGH. I don't like talking about them ok? It's not like you're exactly gushing about your family either. I'll talk about mine if you talk about yours."

He could work with that. "Deal! Now spill."

The tables had turned on her so quickly, and Maka was so tired that it took her a moment to process what had happened. "Uh. Oh. Ok. Um. Yeah. Where do I start…?" She set her book down on the end table, carefully marking her place with the slip of paper the library had issued her with the due date printed on it. As Soul waited as patiently as he was able, she fluffed her pillow and put it behind her back again. Her eyes were drooping, so he knew he was running out of time to get answers.

"Is Spirit your dad? I mean, like really really?"

"You know that's hardly possible. If demons and people could have children so easily there would be a lot more business for witch hunters…"

"Tell me the story, Maka, you're stalling."

Maka was holding herself rigid on her bed, mouth drawn into a tight line. Soul didn't like putting her under pressure for answers, but he needed to know what was so terrible that everyone knew about but no one wanted to let him in on.

"My mama, Kami, and my papa, Spirit… they fell in love." She said it as if it were some terrible revelation.

"Ok." When Soul didn't react it seemed to take a lot of the energy out of Maka and she sank into her words. They were monotone, like she was trying to divorce them from any sort of emotion inside of her.

"You have to understand, my mama got her weapon a little later than other witch hunters. When papa appeared he was like the answer to a prayer, and they got so powerful so quickly… I think it was just a really intense experience for both of them." Maka was pulling in on herself, holding her knees to her chest defensively. "So when my mama wanted a baby… well as you know demons and humans are hardly compatible…" Clearing her throat, Maka skipped over the biology lesson she no doubt wondered if she needed to give him. He'd let her sweat that one out on her own. Soul knew about sex even if he hadn't experienced it with a human. Black Star's porn collection was impressive. It sounded plenty curious, and looked a lot less dangerous than the demon version.

"She scouted out a suitably athletic and anonymous partner and, well, I was the product of that. It broke papa's heart. They stopped being able to resonate as soon as she told him she was pregnant. He started to drink and throw himself at other women…" Maka's voice had been shrinking until he could barely hear it over the AC. "They destroyed each other, really. I was in grade school when mama finally broke their contract,"

A weapon and a master falling in love hadn't struck Soul as particularly scandalous, but the idea of breaking a contract touched something at his core and he shivered in revulsion. Having no contract was one thing, but breaking one was impossible to consider.

"As per the forfeit clause." Maka had to stare at the ceiling to pull herself together. "Papa, Spirit, he gained half of her soul."

There wasn't anything else to say. Magically, it was possible to fissure a soul, but it would ravage a person's mind. That Maka's mother was still alive and mostly herself was testament to her strength. No wonder Kami wasn't on active duty.

"You might say Spirit is as much my mama as my actual mama…" It was a lame joke but she made it anyway to lighten the mood. It was too close to a painful truth. Soul let his mouth quirk up, but he didn't feel like laughing at all. That's what everyone was afraid of for them—that Maka and Soul would turn out just like Kami and Spirit and cripple their fighting force yet again because of something as silly as personal issues.

He examined the lines of pain around Maka's mouth as she busily stuffed down her leaking emotions. They didn't need resonance for Soul to see that she blamed herself for the tragedy her parents had enacted. He wanted to comfort her, to wrap himself around her, but more than just the wards she had set stopped him. Terror at his own weakness and fear that Nygus was right were more effective than any ward she could have set.

"Lucky for me, I'm a weird looking jerk. No chance of a repeat of that bullshit!" Soul bared his teeth at her, making a purposefully ugly face. He was rewarded with a huff of amusement from her.

"Your turn." She said, cocking her head to the side and facing him more completely. Her defensive posture eased now that her work was done.

"What?"

"It's your turn to tell me about your parents."

Soul laid down on the lumpy mattress and threw his arm over his face. "Pssh. You didn't say _when_ I had to talk about mine. Good thing you didn't draw up a contract for me, you suck at negotiation."

He heard the angry noise, but he didn't count on her accurate and vicious aim at his groin with what turned out to be a very hard hotel pillow. Maka flipped off the light and fell asleep to the sound of Soul cursing her in demonic.


	5. Chapter 5

Slow, I know. I was working on a thing that kind of turned into a PWP, so this is probably my brain reacting to that. Still editing the other unrelated thing.

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

Soul was acting weird.

Or, at least, Maka was reasonably sure Soul was acting weird but part of the problem of only having known someone for a few months was being unsure if something about them was an ingrained habit, a forming habit, or totally out of character. Joined souls or no, she still didn't get him.

For instance, he had started insisting on her wearing gloves while training as well as on every mission. Fall had decided to skip straight into winter so for the most part this hadn't been a hardship, but it had been accompanied by a certain fidgety nervousness in the evenings which was making life at home decidedly awkward.

Living alone had seemed ridiculously uncomplicated in comparison. However, the perks of having a partner instead of a roommate had been pretty immediately obvious. Once she'd gotten Soul accustomed to laundry, he'd done it without too much complaint and only leaving it to get musty in the washer on occasion. There was more picking up to do as trade for the laundry, for her, but he was always happy to help with meal prep even on the days he didn't feel like consuming 'human food'. It didn't take long for her to realize the only meals he wanted to be included on featured meat, and she at least remembered that papa had a similar diet when she was small and they all still lived together. They had agreed if he ate something he'd have to help with the dishes as well.

Their routine had been quickly settled, so when the irregularities began Maka noticed them but said nothing. Or, nothing in Maka terms.

"You've been using my shampoo!" Soul's voice had an edge of gravel to it she didn't appreciate. Maka had walked out of the bathroom, wrapped in her robe and toweling her hair before she took the time to blow dry it out. Soul, on his way to his room, had done a 180 and grabbed her shoulder to get her attention. They had been nearly toe to toe before he took a step back with a cough.

Maka allowed herself an eye roll as she anticipated round two of the Great Toiletry Debate.

"We got you different shampoo because you said mine made you smell like someone rubbed potpourri all over your face. I don't recall being forbidden from it." Maka thought the extra expense just so he could feel manlier and avoid Black Star ragging on him was pure luxury. "Deodorant I insisted on, toothpaste I'm still on the fence about, but shampoo…? No. I'm drawing the line right here."

"Don't be cheap." He seemed some cross between angry and twitchy. Maybe this had something to do with being barely out of their teens. Was it some developmental thing? Did demons have a late puberty? Watching everyone else from afar when she was growing up, they seemed to have kept pace with one another except that demons didn't get acne. Soul really did have nice skin, now that she thought about it, with a hint of tan that made his hair and teeth seem whiter in contrast. Once the shampoo thing was handled, she imagined the lotion would be the next front for confrontation.

But why was all this happening now instead of weeks ago?

"Stop looking at me like you're trying to figure out one of your text books you read for fun like a freak!" Soul was bristling, and she wondered if it was seasonal. Would he crank at her every winter? There had to be a trigger for all this.

"You'll have to deal with it until I make next month's budget. Holidays are hard enough without extra expenses." He looked confused, and she realized he would have no idea what she was referring to unless she gave him some context. "Next month is December, and we're going to be traveling a lot. We get a per diem for food, and the Shibusen pays for travel, but it's a time of year where not only are we paying more for things but it's harder to get around. Witches don't care about Christmas, I explained about that day to you a while ago, but they sure raise hell for the solstice and lucky us they fall on nearly the same date."

One of her patented pedantic moments seemed to lull him into a state of sullen acceptance.

"Whatever," Soul huffed and marched down to his bedroom door to shut it firmly behind him. No doubt he'd be plugged in to his music and totally unreachable until he emerged from his funk. The TV was all hers this evening, as it had been more frequently since close to Halloween.

Halloween had been… a rough night. The scratches on the backs of her calves had been bled to cleanse the infection from the many tiny claw marks, and luckily she had healed quickly so they hopefully wouldn't scar too badly. Nygus had commented that she shouldn't leave her legs bare, again, but Maka never felt like she could fight as well when constrained by clothing. Maka no longer made jokes about fighting nearly naked after her papa had heard her once and flown off the handle. Jokes in general weren't a point of strength for her so maybe that was for the best.

The TV flared to life as Maka laid back on the new couch, hair dry, in her navy blue track suit with some inadvisable word printed over the bottom (a well-intentioned gift from her papa a year ago). The track suit survived in her wardrobe because the material was soft and the light weight was perfect for winter nights in their desert community. New was for a given value of new for the couch, which was really Stein and Marie's old couch, and Maka wondered if they had even really used it as it had a pristine feel. Marie was very house proud, and Stein spent most of his time in the lab, so landing this couch was a triumph.

What was their partnership like? Marie seemed extra kind, but demons appeared to be as varied as humans. What really separated them other than a few degrees in body temperature and the ability to transform into metal? Soul showered every morning, walking out of the bathroom like a zombie with dripping white hair and a toothbrush in his mouth. More than once, eating her oatmeal at the tiny kitchen table and watching him shuffle, she had allowed her eyes to follow him on his grim march back to his room to put on clothes. She thought that he certainly seemed a lot more human than Black Star or Kilik or any of the boys she had grown up with. They had called her weird growing up, and made fun of her for being weaponless, so some of that was probably the contempt of familiarity.

Even though the quiz show on the screen beckoned her to pay attention, Maka's mind's eye wandered back to memories of Soul clad in a towel and dripping water down their hallway in the early morning. After their first three missions Soul had had enough energy to join Black Star at the gym and the muscle he had gained in a month had taken him from slightly soft to noticeably cut. It didn't change his weapon form, as that was psychically generated, but it sure didn't hurt her eyes the rest of the time.

Dangerous train of thought. Bad Maka. She unzipped her track suit jacket a little to vent her body heat. Maybe she shouldn't take such hot showers until it got colder. Her brain rebelled against any other cause for the physiological response she was experiencing.

"Move your legs." Soul made a surprise appearance, earbuds dangling from his neck, still in the long sleeved t-shirt and jeans he'd spent the day in.

"I was here first." Maka said, and pretended to pay attention to the questions on the show while Soul rotated her legs off the couch. She didn't fight him all that hard tonight, since she was still sore from practice yesterday when she had to jump around an obstacle course while Soul was in her hands as a scythe. Other than improving her mobility and balance, she was also working on some specific moves with him that required spinning. They couldn't practice much because it would actually make him dizzy, and he didn't enjoy being disoriented.

Maka propped her legs up on the coffee table instead, and they sat in companionable silence. He had one ear bud in his head again and was bobbing to the music gently, making her wonder why he even came out here if he didn't want to watch anything.

"Look," he broke the silence between them at a commercial before the final question was revealed. "I'm not trying to be an ass about things. I figured you'd appreciate it too, not having to touch stuff I touch any more than necessary."

"Did I say I hated touching you?"

"No." Was he blushing? It might have been a shadow from the light of the screen.

"Then don't worry about it. I would tell you if you did something I didn't like. I've always been honest with you." The commercial break finished and the program resumed, but it wasn't important to her anymore to see who won. "I'll admit in the beginning I had a hard time adjusting, but that's because I had been living alone in that apartment from the time I turned fifteen until the day I brought you home with me. I stopped lecturing you on proper ways to do things pretty quickly."

"That's because I stopped listening pretty quickly." Soul smiled at that, and there was none of the strain she had been used to seeing recently. It made her feel a shard of relief.

"And because I believe in our partnership. And compromise." Maka made sure to catch his eyes as she finished. "And friendship."

"Friendship?" His eyebrows shot up, and she tried not to feel miffed.

"Yes friendship. Soul connection aside, you have spent more time with me and know me better than just about anyone else in the Shubusen. Including my parents _and_ my former classmates." The truth of her words struck her as profoundly sad, in a way. Her workaholic nature had brought that on herself. "I like them all, and they like me, but I don't think anyone really sees me the way you see me. For instance, I've spent more leisure time with you and Black Star and Tsubaki together in the past couple months than I spent with them in the past couple years."

The question on his face was clear, as well as pity she didn't really appreciate seeing writ large.

"Being on active duty in our region keeps us all busy. If I'm not travelling or researching, then I'm training or actually fighting. Everyone else had partners to travel with… I saw them when I could in between time." Maka had had books. Books were a source of entertainment and comfort, but she had been reading a lot less with Soul around these days.

"Other than that weird thing you do being able to track souls or whatever it is," Maka tensed, unsure if she should come clear or not about her detection ability. "I don't know how you were allowed to go active without a weapon. It sounds like suicide. Hell, that stupid teenage witch we fought on Halloween with all the makeup and the stupid imps… you needed me there as another set of eyes. I never would have let you do a damn fool thing like that if I were Kid."

"You really can't tell, can you?" Maka was amazed. "You can touch my soul and you never noticed?"

Soul had claimed the remote and was flipping through channels while Maka bit her lip and finally decided that she might as well tell him. If he heard from someone else then he'd flip out at being kept in the dark, and hadn't she just made a big deal about him being her best friend or something? It was still embarrassing that she'd admitted that, in her mind it hadn't seemed pathetic until she'd said it out loud.

"You know how when he sees me, papa always tells you that you have to make sure to protect me because I'm one in a million?"

"Yeah, weird old dude." Soul wasn't finding anything that caught his interest, she knew because this was the third cycle through the channels he'd done.

"Well, if we're going to be accurate, I'm more like one in fifty million." Suddenly, Soul stopped on the weather channel. In the next minute he had popped the ear bud out and was squinting at her in deep concentration, hands in fists next to his side. The hint might have been broad but he seemed to understand this was serious. "You never bothered to look while we were resonating, did you? I thought for sure it would be super obvious. I figured you were just being polite, and not telling anyone." Maka rushed through her words as he continued to examine her as if under a magnifying glass.

Even though they had never tried resonating when he wasn't in his weapon form, she took the opportunity to snatch up his hand. He hissed under his breath and started to pull back, but something in the way she looked at him had him still.

"It doesn't need to be full resonance, just enough to sense the shape of my soul. You can't see them like I can."

His red eyes were wide and blinking owlishly as she felt the tentative beginnings of resonance from him. It was almost unbearably weird to have him next to her instead of a smooth hard length of metal in her hands. Maka reminded herself that in any form he was still the same Soul.

"Wings…" He murmured, eyes closed, smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Then the resonance dropped abruptly away and she keenly felt the loss of his hand as he shot up from the couch. "Grigori! You!" Soul's hands were almost claw-like as he reached for her then seemed to pull himself together.

"I would never had made it on my own otherwise," Maka responded to his shock defensively. "I heal a little faster, I'll never get sick from _regular_ diseases, and there's a few other things… but even with all the books in the library no one really knows what it means other than sometime way back when something not quite human got into my family tree."

The Infernal plane was a lot more easily accessible than the Celestial, but they still operated at odds to one another. She hoped this underlined that she trusted him rather than highlighted yet another reason why he should not trust her. Ransoming his freedom, delaying their binding, and now whatever thing was making him act like a moody teen… she was really messing up this whole partnership business.

"Please say something." It felt a little bit too much like she had bared something to him and all he could do was stare it her with those glowing accusatory eyes.

"We were playing with explosives this whole time and you couldn't even warn me? What if our resonance had corrupted!? You couldn't know we'd be compatible when I bound myself to you! Your soul could have _killed me in self-defense_." Maka's stricken face seemed to stop him. "But you didn't know that did you…"

There was so little in the books about Grigori souls. Few of them made it to adulthood without being hunted down by a witch or a demon and eaten. Even fewer of the survivors were positioned to be recruited into the Shibusen because of temperament or talent. Maka was something very nearly unique.

"I would never have put us into danger like that unthinkingly." But as much as she felt like that could be true, a sliver of her mind reminded her of all the times she rushed into battles she might not win because of her faith that things would work in her favor. It hadn't really mattered; Maka hadn't had a whole lot to live for besides the job. Succeeding in missions _was_ her life. "We're in this together now, Soul. If you know something I don't..."

"You are so fucking confusing, you know that!?" Soul's outburst seemed to have been building for a while. A bland weather report punctuated the silence between his yelled sentiments. "You treat our arrangement like it's no big deal, like it's business as usual for Maka Albarn! My life might have been shitty before but at least I knew how to get along in it! You've thrown us into near suicidal situations since apparently _day one_!" Soul buried his face in his hands and crashed backwards onto the couch in a sloppy pile of limbs. The downstairs neighbors probably hated them tonight.

True to his totally confusing behavior recently, the wind totally went out of his sails and he sagged in on himself before reaching over to grab her shoulders in a stiff hug. Even though she had been hugged hundreds of times, this one she just wanted to sink into. Trapped against his chest, her chin digging into his shoulder, her hands quivered with rogue impulses. Torn between horror at the dawning realization of her attraction to her weapon and delight that he cared at all even if it was possibly just self-preservation, Maka did nothing but let him smash her against him. But when his arms lost their tenacious pressure and his hands began to slowly slide down her back, she knew she had to stop this before she did something she'd regret. The hug had lasted long enough that she was sure neither one of them had a good exit strategy.

"Soul," Maka said as she gently pulled away. He didn't stop her but his crimson eyes were enigmatic. "I need to use the bathroom. Find something for us to watch?" It wasn't a lie if she actually went to the bathroom, and she fully planned on sitting in there until her heart calmed down. No room for courage here, not tonight.

That actually earned a snort from him, but everything from his posture to his tone seemed more relaxed. Hopefully his burst of temper had been cathartic. "Make some popcorn while you're up. I'll be damned, but I kind of miss the smell…"

"You have legs." She replied.


	6. Chapter 6 (part 1)

Man, life drama was bleeding into fic drama that was bleeding into ooc territory. Heiei'sC.G. gave me a reality check about that one. Trying to get my brain back on track.

Probably a part 2 to this chappie. Just needed the break in thought.

Disclaimer: see chapter 1

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There was no other way around it, Maka was some kind of monster buoyed on factoids and coffee.

"It's Maine. It isn't a 'wasteland', and you'll get used to the cold." He waited for the inevitable addition she couldn't help but make. Counting down from ten in his head he got to about seven. "In fact there is a thriving native French speaking population in the general area where we're visiting. We might even have time to—oof!"

The train they had been taking up the coastline jostled them, and Soul turned up his music so that when Maka began talking again, her quaint facts would translate into cool jazz instead. If he just kept nodding at intervals he found it was almost as good as listening. Either Maka didn't notice or didn't care if he contributed to her monologue about Maine and French Canadians.

He only nodded off for a little while, but before he knew it Maka was shaking him awake. Their large duffle was waiting for them when they got off the train and Soul was pulling on a hat to match the thick down jacket and scarf that kept the nearly freezing temperatures from touching him before he hefted it across his back. Running hot didn't make him immune to cold, and he had gotten pretty well acclimated to the desert temperatures so Maine was a shocker.

"Why did you take this assignment, again? Was it because no one else would?" Soul took a moment to stretch his legs. Plane then train had taken more hours than he had had music for and he'd heard his playlist so many times he'd almost rather hear more Maka Facts.

"Not at all. It fit everything I was looking for. Medium level of difficulty, high probability of recovery of magical goods for evaluation and destruction, and most importantly it got us out of the house." Things had been a little stuffy there since the Huggening. You could only play so many board games or read so many books in the evening while pointedly not discussing something, besides Maka secretly had to be an adrenaline junky the way she threw herself at the mission boards. "After Thanksgiving passes this week things are going to ramp up a lot in preparation for the solstice. Then they'll _have_ to let us take a three star mission."

Soul examined all the Christmas decorations near the train station, and thought that the green and red combo was weird looking. The whole idea of an entire country shutting down for multiple days in the middle of winter made enough sense to him, because winter was the time to hole up and wait for the spring anyway, but when Maka had explained Christmas the holiday to him it had read like some sort of mass hallucination. Buying lots of things sounded pointless, but eating lots of things he could get behind.

"Do you think we'll be back home in time for this food holiday on Thursday?" Soul wanted to show Black Star that he was the definitive champion at eating. It was in his name after all.

"I doubt it. Even if we finish up early we'll still have to get back, and most people booked up the trains and planes ages ago." Maka let Soul shoulder their duffle while they walked to the car rental agency. "I'll buy you a turkey for Christmas if you really want the experience. I have a feeling we'll be eating airport food on while on standby, at best."

Soul shrugged and Maka gave him a funny little smile before they walked into the rental car place. He was under strict orders to let her do the talking and to not meet anyone's eyes if he could help it. When he was just standing around, bundled into his borrowed winter clothes, he looked like a regular kid home from college. Learn to blend in, Marie had said, showing him her glasses and cane. When she was out with Stein on a mission she would pretend to be blind. Soul didn't think he could pull that off.

"… and would you and your husband like to purchase insurance?" Soul's head snapped around as he tuned in to what the teller was saying. Normally she made him wait outside. This was their fourth time out on the road together, and he wondered if they were being registered in all these hotels as a married couple. Was anyone about to consult him on this?! Suddenly the single bed at the hotel the past two times made more sense; he'd not appreciated the blanket on the floor even if he had been the one who offered to sleep there.

"We'll be fine." Maka had to have felt the emotions from Soul that zapped through their barriers but she seemed to be ignoring him for the moment. "Well, on second thought…"

He managed to keep his opinions to himself until they had pulled out in the car. Soul was disentangling their Shibusen issued GPS while Maka was quickly trying to get them out of the city. The heater was blasting, giving them both some relief from the cold.

"So am I an Albarn or are you an Eater?" Soul dropped it into conversation as he programmed the coordinates into the GPS.

Maka had the grace to look nonplussed. "When they made your documents with the name Evans they made me a second set as an Evans too. It's easier in a lot of ways to be travelling as a couple than as a two single people who just happen to share the same room."

Once Soul had finished with the GPS he started to fiddle with the radio. The idea of being married to Maka didn't sound too bad. It couldn't be that different than living with Maka. The way people always smiled at them funny when they checked in to places now made a lot more sense. How many honeymoons had they been on already without him knowing?

"They thought that Albarn was too distinctive, otherwise you might have been an Albarn." Maka added absently after a few moments of Soul messing with the radio and finding a whole lot of nothing he was interested in hearing.

"Maka Evans sounds weird." Soul said after a moment, giving up on the radio and letting some random classical station break the background silence.

"Well, Soul Eater Albarn sounds even weirder."

He dug out a book of Maka's from the duffel and read while the urban landscape thinned out and became forests.

* * *

"So what's our fake wedding date, then?"

"For Death's sake, are you annoyed that we're fake married?" Maka had been driving for hours and she really didn't want to hear whatever qualms he had against their cover. The arguments she had had with Kid about believability and their relative newness as partners hadn't ended up meaning much to him. This was standard protocol, he'd said, even if they were un-standard partners. Most partnerships had years to work up to this point, growing in familiarity through young adulthood so that this arrangement would be plausible. Secretly, Maka thought they were being forced into this because as an exception they would ruin the symmetry of the arrangements.

"Hey, I just want to make sure if someone asks me a question we can be consistent." Soul gave her one of those toothy smiles that made her heart skip a little now, and she firmly smothered those feelings with her own guilt for having them in the first place. Hormones gone wild from too many repressive years, perhaps?

Clearly he was trying to get a rise out of her, but she answered anyway. "I've been saying July 7th if anyone asks me, but not many people have. Just clerks making chit chat."

"We didn't know one another then, although that's probably pretty close to when I got summoned by that crazy witch." Soul looked thoughtful. "What about our vows?"

"C'mon Soul, this isn't funny." Maka's hands were clutching the wheel with white knuckles.

He was looking out the window instead of at her, but she could see his grin in the reflection. "What else is there to do right now, we have hours to go and all I see for miles and miles are trees. And it's almost too dark to see those."

"You could read the missions notes for once instead of waiting for me to sum them up for you when we get to the motel tonight."

"I'd have to find a flashlight too, then, and don't even try to pretend like that light wouldn't bug you while we're driving."

He was right damn him. "Maybe it wouldn't bother me at all. You don't know for sure until you try."

The laugh she heard was more a sustained chuckle. "This is the best game yet. 'How well do you know Maka Albarn?' I bet I could make it to the finals, already."

It was more bait, meant to tease her and possibly anger her, and she swallowed it eagerly. "Oh yeah? Impress me then, how well do you know me?"

He was silent long enough that she thought maybe he hadn't meant anything more than get her to snap at him a little. Since the hug they had shared on the couch not too long ago he had stopped being antagonistic for no reason, but there had been no ceasefire on teasing either.

"You spend longer than necessary researching before missions because you like the way the library makes you feel. You rush into battle on instinct and adrenaline, but you take your time with books." Maka shivered as his words washed over her. "You've been doing more things with your left hand ever since Stein remarked that you're relying too much on your right hand to swing me. Not that you asked for help, or even acknowledged that he'd said it."

"Haha, ok so you're more observant than I figured for someone who always has his soundtrack going every waking hour." Maka didn't want him to know that his words rattled her, she'd always just muddled through problems on her own. After being a one woman army her whole life it took time to trust in a partner to share the load.

Soul's eyes were boring into the side of her face, points of dim light accentuated by the sunset through the trees. "You don't trust men."

Briefly she swerved a little into the oncoming lane, glad they were alone on the road for miles in each direction. "Okay! Weren't you bugging me about driving? Maybe this is a good chance. No one is around and I bought the insurance, after all."

"I thought you said that until I had my permit I wasn't going to touch the wheel of anything bigger than a, what was it…. go kart?"

Maka had already pulled over to the side and put the car firmly in park. Opening the door to the outdoors was bracing, but the fresh scent of the forest washed over her at the same time the cold did and it felt so good she forgot about the butterflies in her stomach for a moment.

"This is just because I think you need to be ready in case I get incapacitated." She told Soul sternly as she handed the keys over.

"Okay." Soul said with a shrug, but his smirk still kept her on edge until she had climbed into the passenger seat and buckled down and beyond.

* * *

Soul had no one to blame for himself for his predicament, as the entire length of his master was pressed against his side. He couldn't feel her curves, or what passed for curves on her bony body, because of the many layers of winter clothing on them but if you had a certain kind of imagination the forest floor was a little like a bed, and the camouflage net was a little like a blanket, which if you squinted sideways made this fairly compromising.

The fact that Maka was holding a pair of binoculars and scouting out a potentially witch inhabited cabin instead of sighing on top of him did ruin the fantasy a bit. Soul had mostly given up on the fact that he was having these feelings. Fighting them had made him too moody. Giving up on their existence had been such a relief, but the tension it left in him would start affecting their resonance if he wasn't careful. It was making him trust her a little too much, if anything. He had to remain the cooler head between the two of them, figuratively speaking.

"Can't I just look a little while? It's pretty boring staring at the sky or the inside of my hood." Soul had run out of battery life for his music a couple hours ago, and only the side that was plastered to Maka was even remotely warm enough. Stakeouts, as it turned out, were vastly worse than combat.

"Shhh!" Maka batted at his hand as it reached up for the binoculars. "I told you, that ambient glow your eyes give off might be enough to catch someone's eye. If you don't like it you can just sit around in scythe form and wait it out."

He wouldn't feel the cold that way, having no nerve endings as a piece of metal, but he also wouldn't feel Maka next to him. Soul grumbled and pulled his hood tighter over his face, watching his breath form small clouds as it escaped his mouth. It felt like hours but it was probably only minutes before he felt compelled to talk to her again. Every time he did he could feel the tension in her frame, and he liked the feeling of her shifting next to him.

"I'm still having a hard time believing any coven would own a car that huge and ugly."

"A minivan is a very practical way to transport several people. Not all witches are cackling madwomen, they just end up that way after a few hundred years too deep in the art." He knew she couldn't help but answer his questions even when they weren't phrased as a question. "But seriously, if they spot us we'd be in a lot of trouble so _zip it_."

This had been her life before him, reconnaissance missions combined with orders not to engage, or low level combat missions. She was working in her comfort zone, and it showed. The only time she seemed stressed was when Soul did things. When he was holding still she seemed totally at ease. How many hours had she laid in ditches, or mud pits, or sat in trees until she had come back with evidence of witchcraft for a more combat ready pair to come finish what she started? Didn't she want to run in with him in her hands and lop off a few witchy heads? The idea of both Maka in the heat of battle and of the resulting feast of witch souls made Soul's mouth water and his body tense. At some point his daydream began focusing on those long legs of her and that short skirt she usually wore and suddenly laying on his belly became even less comfortable.

Maka grabbed his shoulder suddenly and squeezed him tightly. The van and another car that had been parked there were starting up and it looked like all the heavily bundled figures that had been in the house were now leaving. Soon they could roll everything up and break in to gather information and evidence. Soul hoped it would take a little time for the all clear so that standing up would not result in any awkward questions or observations on Maka's part.

In a drunken moment a week ago Black Star had assured Soul that it was inevitable that weapons and masters had attraction, it was natural. However, the blue haired menace also seemed to think he was a god, and that buying him drinks was a form of worship so he could have just been talking out of his ass. _The trick is to resist it until it fades,_ Black Star had said in a lucid moment. When Soul had asked how long before that happened, his friend had taken another drink and smiled in that way that didn't touch the eyes before responding, _You tell me_ …

"I think it's safe." Maka began to neatly fold up their camouflage blanket and stow everything in the pack they had hiked out here with. "We don't have much time before we lose the light. Ugh, winter."

They tromped their way over the not yet frozen ground and Soul kept a look out while Maka picked the lock to the house. It was a rare witch that secured spells around the entryway because it meant they would have to deal with them degrading over time, said Maka Facts. More than likely it was all the windows and probably the chimney that had spells set to activate should something pass through them. She had then showed him the scar from when a razor sharp trap had nearly severed her arm and instead took a strip of skin from her forearm. He just told her to hurry up and stop yakking so they could get indoors. It didn't take too long once she concentrated and they stepped into what should have been a quaint vacation cabin but looked more like a teen goth's bedroom.

"You've got to be kidding me." Soul sneered at the old posters and dripping candles. "Even that crazy old woman that summoned me had had enough sense to keep it all locked up in her basement!"

He was sure to carefully skirt the edge of the pentagram drawn in (probably) blood at the center of the living room.

"This is pretty remote country, and private property at that. If someone came in they'd just see the kitsch and ignore what really matters. Hiding in plain sight is their favorite thing…" Maka had put on latex gloves and was carefully going through the kitchenette area while Soul examined the stack of DVDs lying near the small television in the corner.

"Why would a witch watch Sex in the City?" Maka didn't reply, and it was just as well because he didn't care about the answer. Soul didn't touch anything, having declined the gloves. He wandered from the DVDs to near the bookshelf, but other than a lot of titles about 'empowerment' and 'self-realization' he didn't see anything particularly witchy. "How often do covens turn out to be a bunch of old ladies pretending to cast spells?"

Maka was taking pictures of the contents of the fridge and freezer, making sure to get multiple angles. She answered absently. "More often than you'd suspect, but not as often as I'd like." Picking up a cookbook, she told him to scan the bedroom quickly while she looked in the bathroom.

The bed looked like it had never been slept in, so clearly this cabin was only used for meetings or whatever the hell else witches needed to meet to do. He unzipped his jacket, now making him uncomfortably warm indoors, and used a handful of his shirt to allow him to check the dresser and the closet. The dresser contained a bunch of white towels, while the closet held some jackets, and a couple pairs of boots.

On the bedside table there was a slim book turned on its face while the back of it told it him could 'solve all his relationship woes with these three easy to follow rules' and that 'men will never look at you the same way again'. He tried to imagine Maka reading a book like that, and drew a total blank. She did strike him as the kind of human that would try to solve a problem by reading books, but she also seemed like the kind of human that would have a hard time even realizing she had a problem in that arena.

"Soul!" There was an edge to Maka's voice that touched him through their connection and he rushed out to where she was standing by the window with the cookbook pressed tightly to her chest. "I _thought_ it was a little too easy…"

"What in the fuck…?" Lumbering beasts were coming from the distance slowly. If they could see two out there among the trees no doubt there were more around the cabin.

"Damn it!" Maka tore herself from the window and took a few deep breaths. "I knew better than to open a book up until we got to the hotel, but it really looked like a cookbook…" From the faded cake on the front Soul would have thought it was a cookbook if it had been him. "I should have seen how uneven the cuts were for the pages, and the paper quality was too high. I guess we've failed at the stealth portion, but I do have evidence now of what they've been doing here. A little too much evidence…" Maka stared out the window with a troubled look in her eyes.

They must have been people at one time. As the beasts got closer they looked like some terrible patchwork of human and animal that from a distance might have been mistaken for a bear but up this close reeked of abomination. He wasn't even sure they were human enough that he could eat their souls, once they went down. It never occurred to him that they wouldn't fight their way out so he didn't feel disappointed in this development. Maka took a few pictures through the window with as much zoom as she could force on the camera, then put both it and the book in their pack.

"Are you scared?" He didn't think she was but he knew that would get a rise out of her.

"I'm worried my balance will be off. I never used you with weight on my back, but I also can't leave this behind." The dark look she gave him made him chuckle despite himself.

"Trust me, then." Soul smiled at her, weirdly pleased he could finally serve as a real weapon to her. Despite their resonance he always had a sense like they were two entities doing the same task at the same time, rather than partners. He wanted to be more than a tool she wielded. "I guess we'll just have to practice more when we get back."

Maka shouldered her pack and held out her hand, and soon enough he was in his weapon form and observing the world around them darkening. _Waiting for nightfall isn't going to help us any_. All she did was sigh at his eagerness.


	7. Chapter 6 (part 2)

Part II of the previous chapter. I think I need a Christmas party chapter next. That sounds like something I never wrote before, it could be fun. Really unsure where this wants to go ultimately, but I'm having fun. Hope all ya'll are as well. Thanks for the follows!

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Maka considered pain to be an intimate thing. When she was young she learned quickly that expressing pain seemed to be more about bringing other people into her experience of it than providing any relief from it, so she made sure to hold back the tears and tough it out until she could seek treatment. Only later did she realize this meant those nights when she lay awake staring at the ceiling, unable to concentrate on her book, that she had lost words to express her pain to herself as well as others.

It made Soul's awareness of her pain, an unintended consequence of their resonance, all the more disturbing.

 _You're limping. I know that last swipe grazed the tendon. You can't pretend you're walking normally!_ The alarm in his voice—not that there were any vibrations in the air, it was her mind's way of reconciling the raw data he conveyed from their connection—shook her more than the actual pain. She wished he wouldn't put words to it.

"Shut up, we're handling it!" Running, or what she could manage at a fast limp, was not getting them to the car fast enough. Soul was swinging in wide arcs in front of her as her arm muscles screamed at her to stop and rest. The first few strong swipes had cleanly severed limbs and necks of the beastly creatures tracking them through the woods, but with limited visibility and an unknown number of enemies she had been too aggressive at the start and fatigue was setting in. Pulling Soul's blade out of the body of a beast had taken more effort than she had suspected it would, and only their creator knew how many more of them were following.

 _Duck!_ Soul's demand had Maka nearly hitting the dirt in overreaction, but the claw that arched over her head and past her peripheral vision wasn't a mirage. The glints of lights through the trees only illuminated enough to give her the general outline of what she had to strike at, and she rolled hard on her shoulder before popping up to face the creature. _It's slightly to your right._

Maka swung wide, so sloppy she was happy Stein wasn't here to point out the deficiencies. Her arms jerked in their sockets as the blade connected but didn't quite clear the thick flesh of the beast. Again, the spray of ichor hit her body as she kicked her limping foot out and braced against the beast's cleaved chest to help her pull Soul out. The discolored blood was less a concern for her than the mat of sweat under her winter clothes chaffing her every motion.

 _You don't need to finish it off, it's dead._ Soul reassured her as Maka took a shaky breath and then turned back to the direction she knew the car was hidden. Maybe if she stowed the dirty clothes in the trunk she wouldn't have to pay cleaning fees for the upholstery. _Can you sense anything nearby?_

"All I get from the monsters is fragments, anyway, but I'm too exhausted to concentrate that hard." It was evil magic that tore a soul into such small pieces that Maka could barely make out traces of it. This had no impact on most combat pairs, as they had to develop other ways to find their enemies to fight. Maka relied on her soul detection too much, she realized, and in situations like these it was a blind spot she couldn't afford.

 _I think I see the car!_ Soul's voice was excited in her mind, but she knew he loved the feeling of her passing his blade through flesh and bone so she assumed it was more about that undercurrent of concern he imperfectly stifling. She hated that he thought her so weak a few cuts and bruises would take her down. Maybe when she got home Black Star would train her a bit, since all he knew how to do was train until he collapsed.

They were mere feet from the car when suddenly the steel gripped in her gloves disappeared and Soul unfolded and immediately leaned into her to prop up her bad side.

"Never mind about me, get the car uncovered so we can get out of here!" Maka saw him hesitate, his red eyes dim points of light in the dark. He must have agreed with her, though, because he was busily throwing the branches off as well as pulling the bungees off the tarp that had disguised their car as a bit of forest. Maka dug in the backpack for the keys, glad the wide slashes that had wrecked it hadn't causes the contents to spill out. No sewing this back together later, but the supplies—and most importantly the spell book—were largely intact.

Maka popped the trunk with the key fob and Soul bunched up the tarp to throw it in the back, only to find it wouldn't fit like that. Swearing, he took more time to fold it properly while Maka smiled to herself and limped to join him by the trunk and strip off her blood clothes. Once her sweat soaked under layer was exposed to the night air she started shivering uncontrollably.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Soul demanded as he watched her standing around in half shredded yoga pants and a damp t-shirt.

"Did _you_ budget for cleaning fees?! I didn't! Stop gawking and start driving." The adrenaline that had gotten her this far was wearing off. If walking was white hot agony she couldn't imagine trying to accelerate or break without wanting to throw up a little. "I'm suddenly really glad I had you learn…"

"Just get in and warm up, you're turning blue." Soul slammed the trunk closed and quickly made his way to the driver's side to start up the car. He sounded angry and she couldn't imagine why that might be.

His vision in low light was so much better than hers, and Maka wished she could point out some fault of his right now to make her feel less helpless, but all her thoughts ceased when the heat finally kicked in and her goosebumps smoothed out. She wanted to fall asleep so badly, but some weary part of her brain tried to remind her that was a bad idea. It was hard to make sense of it, since in the warm car with Soul intently reentering the road from the bumpy forest, this felt like safety. Dried blood from the creatures that had hit her cheek was beginning to itch, and she pulled down the visor above her with the lit mirror to take a look at the damage. There was dried blood on the back of her right leg as well, but she knew better than to touch it and reopen the wound until they could clean it at the hotel.

"I look like I just wrestled a bunch of pigs and lost." The dirt and mud that was smeared on her face seemed to highlight her hollowed out tired eyes.

"You're lucky I paid attention in that first aid class."

"I heard from Tsubaki that was the only class you went to because Nygus teaches it." Maka had also heard from Tsubaki that he went to it because he was afraid of the older demon, not because he was particularly interested in the supplementary lessons weapons had to attend. She decided to leave that part out while he was driving. There was a pause in conversation while Maka fought against the pull of sleep in the steadily heating sedan.

Soul picked up speed, but Maka didn't complain because the faster they got to the hotel the faster she could rest. "All those classes are seriously lame. They put me in with a bunch of kids and it's bad enough being stared at by adults… kids _giggle_."

"It's not my fault we missed out on nearly a decade of training together. They had to start you somewhere." Maka clenched and unclenched her hands in the cushion of the car seat and tried to visualize something that made her happy to avoid thinking about her right leg. Curled up on the sofa watching TV with Soul was figuring prominently and she decided to go back to making conversation as a distraction. "You can't let what other people think of you influence you so much. You're pretty cool in my book."

Soul barked a quick laugh. "Maka's Book of Cool, huh? Who else is in there?" They took a turn too sharply and Maka held onto the clothing hook above the window to keep from careening into Soul.

"Slow down, hey!" She was grateful it was dry today, snow would have made this more treacherous than the monsters the way Soul was driving.

"The young ones don't just stare because I'm older, Maka…" Soul was leaned forward practically into the window as if that would get them to the large first aid kit in the hotel room faster. "It's because I have an undeniable family resemblance and they're not as good at feigning disinterest the way older weapons are."

This was not the time she wanted personal revelations: covered in grime and blood, harboring a hopefully untraceable magic item, careening towards a hotel room down a deserted highway in the middle of nowhere. But then, maybe there would never be another moment and who knows what kind of mood even triggered this one?

"Family resemblance?"

"You had to learn all the demon classifications at some point, yes?" Soul sounded annoyed, but that might had been because the heat had reached near suffocation levels. Maka fiddled with temperature dials as she answered, cracking a window also for good measure.

"Of course! I even read the supplementary materials that were only recommended reading." At the time she had been so desperate to find a weapon that her mama would ok her to partner with, even though she knew it was futile. That was shortly before Maka's family fell apart and she gained half a father as she lost half a mother.

"What do you know about Muses?"

This was helping keep her awake, and she wondered briefly if that was his game here. She already had way too much to be grateful for regarding today, that to pile on one more thing was forcing that feeling in her chest for him to move from admiration into stronger and more emotional territory.

"A rare elite form of the Siren type, they can literally sing the soul out from your body. They're practically theoretical."

"I _wish_ my parents were theoretical." Soul snorted. "Was it a right or left here? I wasn't paying attention on the way out."

Maka was too stunned to answer, so when he took the left and they had to spend another ten minutes backtracking later, she didn't even get mad.

* * *

If Soul had been born a muse and not a weapon then he wouldn't have been in the forest with Maka and she would have gotten killed. If Soul had been born a muse and not a weapon he never would have been summoned by that witch or met Maka in the first place, so maybe she never would have been in that forest in the first place having not taken a mission with possible combat elements. Then again, maybe she would have, only she would have been alone with a sword in her hand and _that_ thought had him gripping the wheel so tightly he started to feel the plastic warp under his fingers.

Looking over at her slim frame covered in sweat and blood, he wondered why it was that she had to be the fighter while all he could do was observe. It was Maka's body that took the punishment, and Soul was no worse for wear than when he had been walking around that stupid cabin earlier today. It made him feel like less of a man because he couldn't share the burden. There had to be a way to get stronger, or protect her more effectively.

"…so incredible, I mean, the things you could tell us about how a muse functions since all the books I had read probably didn't have more than a single sentence about them with lots of questions marks and…" Maka's voice droned on next to him as she started doing exactly what he had hoped she wouldn't do—make a big deal out of his family. Everyone made a big deal out of his family.

What had felt like hours of driving in the darkness and now they were back in the relative civilization of the small town that contained the hotel. He knew they were close when he encountered a traffic light. It was tempting to ignore it, but he knew Maka's griping about that would have been far more annoying than the couple minutes pause before they could truly rest.

He checked the rearview mirror for just about the first time since he took the wheel, remembering belatedly Maka's driving lesson and all the stupid rules of hers that seemed to surge endlessly from her nervous mouth. It all came down to: go, stop, don't hit things. It wasn't like it was hard. He met his own eyes in the mirror and cringed. The hair and eyes were what gave him away. With hair and eyes like his he should have taken after his family and been using music to feed his hunger for corrupted human souls. Fate and his screwed up genetics had had other ideas. His tongue scraped over each point of his teeth, a nervous tic that had punctured his tongue more than once on accident.

Maka was still talking, though he suspected this was more about taking her mind off the pain than actually communicating anything important to him. "… ignoring me, but it's not just about me wanting to know, this is about expanding our knowledge! But not in that creepy way like Stein always talks about—and let's not tell him right away he might sneak in at night and operate on you…"

Soul wished he hadn't said anything. He would have had to before he died, as they had made an agreement during that sultry night in Florida, but the floodgates of Maka's intellectual curiosity were open and he just didn't want to deal. The terms of the agreement were fulfilled and he didn't need to say any more, but she'd probably pry something else out of him someday. Rivers won out against stones eventually.

"Are you going to make it up the stairs?" Soul watched Maka get out of the rapidly cooling car gingerly, protecting the leg he knew he was going to have to examine before she slept.

"Of course I can!" She was quick to answer, but by the time he had gotten the backpack disentangled from other things in the trunk and the car locked up he found her shivering and only about a third of the way up the flight of outdoor stairs that led to their second story room.

Asking her questions would only lead to more denial so he tapped her on the shoulder to let her know it was him and as she started to protest about being perfectly capable through chattering teeth he swept her up into his arms. Maka sputtered out some sentence fragments but thankfully didn't struggle as he carried her to the door and deposited her carefully back to the floor so he could dig out the key. She had hardly weighed anything at all, reminding him again that it was incredible she had survived to adulthood in this job.

"Go get a shower, you look like Death warmed over." Soul grumbled at her while she glared daggers at him for something he had thought was pretty fucking considerate, given the circumstances. As soon as he opened the door she darted into the room and limped towards the bathroom only to nearly slam the door behind. What was in her craw now? Human women made about as much sense to him as demon women, only with fewer hard and fast rules.

The noise of water starting up had him staring at the door for a while, imagining her peeling her wet clothes off her body until he realized what he was thinking and quickly turned on the television before wandering over to crank the thermostat up. The backpack he had hauled inside was abandoned in the small hotel closet next to their duffle, but until it warmed up a bit he wasn't about to get out of his comfortable coat. The fur lining on the hood tickled his cheek as he allowed himself a light doze until the burst of light from the bathroom had his eyes fluttering.

Maka, pink and white from her shower and clutching a towel around her middle only just large enough to cover her front and by no means large enough to cover those mile high legs of hers, purposefully limped out of the bathroom and stood next to the queen sized bed they were supposed to share.

"Can you look at my leg? Once I'm assessed and bandaged I just want to go to sleep." Her voice was a monotone and her eyes were droopy. He hated seeing her this run down. Whatever second wind she had found on the car ride had faded with a warm shower and the prospect of sleep. Turning off the TV he got up and wandered to her side of the bed.

As he had thought, there was a deep gouge so close to her tendon that she was lucky she was walking as normally as she was. It was the matter of moments to dig in the duffel to withdraw the dressings and a gel to numb the pain. He knew it would sting, but he didn't warn her because anticipating pain was worse than experiencing it in his estimation. Maka gave a hiss as his hand smoothed gel over the back of her right ankle and calf. Scratches only recently healed from the imps at Halloween had him scowling.

"You need to protect your back better." It seemed impossible that the feelings surging through him were normal, or well contained as his fingers smoothed and warmed the gel. He feared broadcasting so much he found he was talking to distract himself from feeling anything.

"You're heavier than a sword and the swings have more momentum. I'm still learning to compensate." The words were muffled in the pillow.

They needed to pack towels, Soul thought. These hotel towels were just a source of high blood pressure, and he had enough stress to deal with. "You calling me fat?"

"That doesn't even make sense." He hoped that hitched breath she gave was from the fading pain, because if she so much as hinted that she'd welcome his advances he wouldn't be able to stop himself. Good sense always seemed to be overruled by hot blood. Maybe the artistic sensibilities of his family had rubbed off on him more than he'd thought. Touching Maka like this made him think of crashing concertos and hammering out a visionary experimental piece dedicated to the curve of her ass in that towel…

This was madness. Maka, this moment, her skin—he needed to pull back before he was drawn into the darkness and tried to pull her with him. Desire was a hard row to hoe, and he had to win against it without compromising their partnership. More roughly than he meant to, Soul quickly dressed her wound and retreated from the bed.

"Done. I'm getting a shower," Soul shed his coat at last and tossed it towards the closet carelessly along with the extra bandaging, he knew his voice sounded ragged to his own ears but he hoped Maka was too tired to notice.

He was almost through the doorway when he heard Maka's still muffled voice. "Hey, thanks for everything today. I know I'm not the easiest partner to have, but as far as weapons go I couldn't have asked for better."

Soul carried those words with him that night up until he found unconsciousness.


	8. Chapter 7

I know. Too slow. But tipping point is almost there, I think. Only so many people can tell you what to do before you tell them to go to hell, in my experience anyway.

Disclaimer: see part 1

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"Why again am I in an 'ugly sweater'?" Soul pulled at the collar of the sweatshirt that boasted a red cheeked elf with a large printed text bubble that extended into his armpit. Specifically for himself, Soul figured 'have you been good this year?' was more rhetorical than anything. There were probably a number of religious orders which classified his very existence as an abomination so the presence of presents or coal (the two options Maka had made him aware of thus far) seemed to depend on who was doing the judging. Seemed pretty arbitrary to him.

The taxi jostled them on the way to the event space the Shibusen had rented for the annual holiday party, while he watched Maka fiddle with fringe coming off the bottom of her own sweatshirt. It said 'DECK THE HALLS' and featured a sideways ornamented tree. Something about that particular shade of green on green made her seem sallow, or she was coming down with something since she looked like she might be car sick at any moment. Then again, she said that couldn't happen so who the hell knew.

"Black Star has been under the impression that every holiday party involves a competition for 'ugliest sweater' and he spends hours creating his own each year. We just have to show up, declare him the winner, and then we can stuff these into a garbage can and try to enjoy the rest of the evening." Maka didn't even sound cross, just a matter of fact delivery about how she'd been lying to one of her oldest friends for years. Soul narrowed his eyes and stared her down a bit, annoyed at being included in her ruse. "Don't give me that look, please. This is a favor to Tsubaki, who inevitably gets roped into his sewing project. She says he really looks forward to this, and it's harmless. Trust me, the energy he devotes to this could go to _much worse_ alternatives if we cut him loose."

Huffing a dramatic sigh, Soul leaned back and watched the scenery flow past the window while the sun set behind it. Maka kept saying this party was important, but she wasn't being very up front about why. He'd done some research into what made up an 'office holiday party' and it sounded like an excuse to get drunk and act badly. When Soul had asked around about what to expect the general consensus from the weapons was that it was an excuse to eat too much and drink too much. Some of the younger weapons in the first aid class had giggled about people disappearing into dark corners or somesuch nonsense, but most of their words were a droning maw of boring to his ears and he wasn't sure what the significance was.

"There will be lots of food there and I'm sure you could pull a chair into a corner or something for an hour or two if you really can't deal with it all." Maka tried to insert a chipper quality to her voice, but it sounded strained to his ears. It might be enough to fool other people but he had spent too much time around her not to know when she was under stress. "It's fun, though. I always have fun."

"Maka."

"What?"

"You ripped a tassel off your shirt." When she looked down and swore softly under her breath, he finally felt his mood rising up. Watching his normally totally self-possessed and controlled master broadcast nervousness amused him enough that he could forget his collar was itching from the dumb sweatshirt and that the same crappy music had been looping in every public space they had been in for the last few weeks (up to and including this cab). Soul had tried to sneak his music out with him, but Maka had threatened to bring a dictionary with her and smack him with it every time she caught a wire trailing from his ear so he agreed to leave it behind if she agreed to curtail her temper for a night. They had left the apartment mutually disgruntled.

The familiar chugging motor of a motorcycle caught up to the cab and swerved around it to pass on the right in the oncoming lane. Soul gave it a longing look while Maka made a comment about crazy suicidal people who rode flying death machines. That description did nothing to lessen their coolness in Soul's eyes. He didn't want to bring it up with Maka since she had only just started being ok with him driving, (his brand new forged license was produced after their mission to Maine) and she seemed to only want to ok something she could instruct him in herself. Motorcycles weren't something she was well versed in beyond the basics of operating one, so he'd have to find instruction where he could. It looked like freedom, and he could use a taste of that.

"Soul? A little help?" Maka held out the frayed end where the tassel had come off, and carefully he transformed two fingers to snip the loose bit off with a scissoring motion. You could barely tell anything should have been there, now. Maka ran the loose tassel over her fingers absently.

"Nice to know I have a future as an appliance even if the whole weapon business doesn't pan out," He tried to joke, but her gratefully smiling face turned dour immediately, and he wondered what it was that had her on edge.

* * *

"Naughty or Noice!?" Black Star was subtle as usual as he burst into the room roughly ten minutes after Maka and Soul had arrived and began to make the rounds. The very same phrase was emblazoned on his front as well as actually working LEDs that blinked so rapidly Soul felt like the man was a walking strobe. He made a note to find the power source and destroy it before the night was over, or get Tsubaki to do the deed for him. The weapon herself was covered in what looked like a sweater made of tinsel, and Soul itched at his collar again in sympathy.

A sputtering laugh from the back corner that Soul could already identify as Patty broke the horrified silence that had briefly descended as people took in Black Star's creation. Patty herself happened to be in a sweater that featured a giraffe with a 'Santa hat' on the front, but Maka had informed him subtly that she wasn't in on the ugly sweater conspiracy so not to bring it up to her or Liz. The demon sisters were so competitive that it might actually become a thing, and it didn't make sense to have any more people suffer than necessary.

"I see you've all failed to impress yet again," Black Star had the kind of projection opera singers would kill for, and Tsubaki's hushed tones reminded him to use his inside voice. He shooed her away from him but did bring his voice down a couple octaves as he flexed in all his lit up glory. "I almost feel sorry for you saps, but obviously I have a masterful grasp of what it takes to impress and I can't expect people like you to function at my level."

Tsubaki blushed for him by proxy while Black Star laughed at a joke only he found funny. Oddly enough, while usually his behavior was met with the blank stares of people used to his bombastic nonsense, people were actually smiling and nodding a little. The one thing Black Star did not need a single ounce of was encouragement, so Soul remained impassive.

"Might as well just hand over the trophy now!" Maka said, squinting a little as she tried not to look directly at Black Star.

"That's what _I_ said on the way over here!"

Soul shot a pleading look Maka's way and she tightly shook her head. Half an hour before he could ditch the sweatshirt, minimum, she had said on the way over. _And if Black Star ever asks about it tell him you were too warm._ Still seemed like a lot of trouble considering it didn't matter. Seeing an opportunity to disappear into a dark corner the teens had giggled about while Black Star was effectively distracting everyone, Soul casually snagged a red plastic cup of punch and pulled a folding chair underneath the shade of a balcony. The fluorescent lights over the main hall put everyone into stark relief while conversation ebbed and flowed.

They were in some sort of church, it looked like, which held a lot more irony for the demons than the masters even if every last one of these smiling people was a stone cold killer in some form. No one seemed to be bursting into flames or shrieking, and there were no angry parishioners so it looked like he was stuck with experiencing as much of this dumb party as Maka felt like staying through. As he examined the long windows and the rickety old balconies lining the sides of the slightly narrow rectangle that made up the event space he wondered what growing up with holidays would have been like. Not much marked a year out in his own culture other than sun and moon cycles. During the times of the year when the barriers between planes were thinner, portals to the mortal realm could more easily be stabilized and souls collected. Feasts and famines, time limits, rules, ritual combat… even if he was owned on this side of the veil at least he wasn't going hungry and he didn't need to challenge anyone for dominance or territory.

"I should have figured you'd do this." Maka plopped down with a sigh into a folding chair next to him and breaking his thoughts to pieces in the process. Somehow the hall had filled up with humans and weapons milling around and snacking on a rapidly diminishing food laden table. "I got you some sushi before it disappeared. Weapons like raw-ish meats, I've noticed, and people in general are weirdly obsessed with sushi so I figured you'd want to try it while you could. I can't stand the smell of fish, myself."

Soul looked at the plastic plate piled up with tidbits of things dubiously, but after sampling it gave Maka a grin fit to split his face. "Why don't we eat this stuff every night? It's fantastic!"

"It's expensive, and I think it's gross." Her terse reply was absent of emotion, as she scanned the crowd for someone. "But we could go out to eat sometime and I'll just order something else from the menu." It wasn't like Maka to make false promises, but he could count the number of meals out they had had without needing to take off a shoe.

The half-full cup of punch was on the window sill behind them and Maka absently grabbed it to take a sip. Soul wondered if the cup edge tasted like him at all to her, immediately followed by how exponentially hotter and itchier his sweater had become. He was struggling out of it, figuring whatever amount of time he'd suffered had paid his dues to the deluded god of ugly sweaters while Maka's eyes were bugging out of her head.

"There's booze in this!"

"Yeah?" With his sweater in a pile on the floor, Soul continued to mow through the plate of food methodically. He loved the way the raw fish felt as his teeth tore down into it as much as the flavor.

"We're underage, Soul." Maka tried to catch his gaze with that puckered face that he would privately refer to in his own mind as the 'Librarian shushing noisy patron' look.

"Pssh, what does that even mean?" Soul pointed to a smiling girl from his first aid class laughing in a circle of teens. "That chick over there helped her master kill a whole gaggle of half-human half snake people just a couple weeks ago, Black Star is one step away from a secured mental ward, and I'm pretty sure Kid couldn't drink enough to prevent him from fussing with the symmetry of the decorations in here like he's doing now… all of them deserve a drink. You included."

As if to make a point he plucked the cup from Maka's grasp and downed the rest of it, noting that the taste of raw fish, sugar, and alcohol was actually pretty vile. He was expecting violence, and he could see the desire to commit violence rise in her as her muscles tensed and her mouth twitched. There was some sort of pressure valve that let off at the last moment and Maka sagged into her chair, eyes drifting closed as she smoothed down her skirt and crossed her legs.

"I thought mama was going to show up tonight, but it looks like she skipped it again this year." The change in topic might have thrown someone else, but Soul had heard enough about the superstar fighter that had been Kami Albarn to quilt together an understanding of Maka's insecurities.

"She doesn't want to meet me, does she? That's fine, I'm cool with that. If I could have avoided this tonight I totally would have, too."

They both knew that wasn't the real issue. Soul was giving her an out to blame it on him instead of internalizing it and blaming herself and her gregarious papa for their existence forcing Kami into trauma and seclusion.

"It would have been nice if she had come tonight. I hear she took out some of her pension and plans to travel, so it would have been the last chance to see her for a while." Maka gave Soul a shockingly vulnerable smile, one that made her look so damn young he felt dirty for the way he was sneaking glances at the exposed length of her thigh in that skirt. "This party is all about last chances."

It might have been the lead weight of food in his belly or the alcohol, but Soul felt his stomach flop over as he suddenly _understood_. This wasn't a holiday party—well, it was, but it was a whole lot more—this was the last chance before the solstice to see people and tell them a joke or pat them on the back and think back on the year. How many people died in pitched battles during the magical peak of the witches' calendar? He'd been feeling the tension building as soon as Maka had flipped their dumb wall calendar with the pictures of cats in funny hats to the one of the white kitten chewing the wrapper off a cheery beribboned box. What an idiot he was, fuck.

"Hey, did you want to go talk to Killik or something? He'll be three sheets to the wind soon and it looks like the twins are about to start dropping weird shit off the balcony onto his head. Or Ox's." Soul nudged Maka with his shoulder, trying to get a smile out of her. "Maybe we should wait and see if they're aiming for Ox."

"I think I need some punch." Was her reply and when her green eyes met his glance they only had a hint of glisten in them, before she too began to struggle out of her terrible green sweatshirt. Soul stood up quickly as her taut stomach flashed at him and he felt his fingers twitch towards her.

"That's my Maka!" He said, regret over his choice of words causing him to beat a quick retreat to the punch bowl. She probably hadn't even heard him, since her sweater had tangled in her hair on the way off and she had been politely cursing into it softly as he left. He downed a quick cup of spiked punch before filling his once more and grabbing one for Maka. He hoped that lightheadedness was from the alcohol, but he hadn't figured he'd suddenly become a lightweight.

* * *

"I thought you had cut her off," Tsubaki, still in her tinsel sweater, practically appeared from nowhere next to Soul and he tried not to be creeped out by how good she was at doing that.

The two weapons watched Maka, who was currently trying (and failing) to arm wrestle Black Star over and over again. This was an improvement over their impromptu judo match from earlier that had upset the ornamental tree on the stage that overlooked the event space. The tinkling crash had been impressive, but the already blackening eye on Black Star's face was almost more impressive. Soul hadn't even realized that's what she was up to, since Maka had told him she was going to the bathroom prior to the incident, but after he had managed to pull them apart with Tsubaki's help Maka had told him that Black Star had 'looked at her funny' and Soul figured she could use the stress relief.

"I think the sisters have been slipping her drinks." Liz's feline smile in the direction of the bout, from her seat next to a stone faced Kid caught in conversation with Stein, basically confirmed his suspicions.

"They just want Maka to be happy. She never cuts loose like this." Tsubaki watched Black Star gloat over a furious Maka who insisted they go again, but with left arms. "For as long as I've known her she just floated around. I like seeing her more… animated."

"Any more animated and she won't even be able to lift me tomorrow…" Soul grumbled, but he had to admit this red faced aggressive version of his master was infinitely preferable than the anxious one he had arrived to the party with.

He and Tsubaki stood there, watching Black Star and Maka squabble over rules and then shout down Ox who tried to contribute his own two cents. Eventually, Ox convinced Maka that he should be allowed to try with his modified rules and Black Star cracked his knuckles gleefully while Maka stumbled out of her chair. Soul wandered over to his master, crossed legged on the floor, only to see her look up at him with a slightly dazed but undoubtedly pleased expression.

"I would have won one of those times, or I will. I just need to do more arms and back. Black Star told me every day shouldn't be leg day." Her happiness shifted to anger. "Like he knows how to swing a scythe! It isn't about brute strength!"

Soul crouched down and offered her his hand, which she grasped right away and let him haul her back to her feet. Sweat was running down the side of her face and her white button down was pitted up, but she was entirely unselfconscious of it while she wiped her nose with the back of her hand and then shifted her weight as she narrowed her eyes at Soul. Something like a clumsy probe hit their mental connection only to bounce away as if startled, and Soul wondered what the hell he was supposed to do with her in this state. The party was already winding down and he had no clue how many cups of punch the Thompsons had snuck her while he wasn't looking. She could be drunk for ages.

"Am I sitting down?"

"No."

"I think I should sit down then."

Her blood was cooling in the perpetual indoor AC and he went to find his crumpled sweatshirt in the corner he had left it, dragging her with him by the hand. She accepted it without a word and pulled it over her head, heedless of messing up her hair which already looked like a rat's nest since the judo match. Without a hall full of people, the corner seemed darker than it had earlier, and more secluded. He set Maka down in a chair and then pulled another one up to face her. She sniffed at the collar of his former sweatshirt and Soul squirmed with discomfort when she made a funny face. He didn't think he smelled bad, it was hard to tell what she was thinking.

"I'm going to go home with Tsubaki tonight." Maka regarded him solemnly once she regained some focus, words slurring only a little. "And I'm going to sleep on her couch, even if it smells like cheese from a can and Black Star's B.O."

"For Death's sake, is this you being responsible even when you're drunk?!" Soul wanted to laugh, but at this point all he could manage was a scowl as he ran his tongue over his teeth and considered his words carefully. "You know I'd never hurt you, wards or no. We don't have a contract to append, but I'll tattoo an oath on my body if—" He said it quietly, bringing his face close enough to hers that he could smell her sour breath but he was cut off as Maka pushed her face forward and their lips met briefly, tentatively. It was so fast he almost wondered himself if it had happened or if it was a wishful hallucination.

Those unfocused eyes of hers underlined that Maka was not Maka right now, but her voice was steadier and chipper as she pulled an envelope out from a pocket in her skirt that he would have sworn could not have existed. "Merry Christmas! Partners sometimes give gifts at the party—old tradition—but I didn't have one until now so I sort of forgot until the last minute."

In the small slightly crumpled envelope, Soul pulled out a paid registration for a certain Soul Evans at the A-1 Driving School confirming payment in full for lessons in motorcycle safety. How was it she could be so fucking observant about some things and not others? Had they even just kissed or was that just a drunken head bobble? He really hated parties.

"I see you printed it out this morning. Last minute, huh?" He snorted and then folded it up to place it back in the envelope and then his back pocket. His mind was racing but outwardly he was calm. "So now I just get to look like an idiot for not having anything to give to you, huh."

Maka smiled mysteriously, unperturbed. "Oh hi Tsubaki."

Soul, leaning towards Maka, jumped out of his seat as if electrified. It was the guilt that had him sweating suddenly, even if he didn't have anything to feel guilty about. "Goddam it stop doing that! Walk louder or something!"

Infuriatingly, both women giggled, proving to him that regardless of plane of origin that women shared some evil hive mind when it came to tormenting men.

"I heard my name, I think. How are you feeling, Maka?"

"Can I sleep on your couch tonight? Now that I'm not moving around I'm feeling really sleepy. I don't think I'll last here much longer."

"Of course. I'll just tell Black Star that I got him that new video game he wanted to play and he'll insist on a cab very quickly. You might have to sleep in my room tonight if you want any peace and quiet." The gentle seeming weapon shook her head as if she couldn't process how easily her master was to manipulate. "He's really a very complex man in other ways…" Soul hoped his skepticism was less easily read than Maka's, at the moment.

Tsubaki moved away from the dark corner to where the arm wrestling was continuing unabated but on the way caught Soul's arm with a firm grip and led him out of Maka's earshot. Maka didn't seem to notice as she was examining empty cups that had been discarded on the windowsill near her seat, her foot tapping absently to a beat that Soul felt was oddly familiar as he snatched a glance at her over his shoulder. The grip tightened to a painful vise only briefly before Soul twisted away, and Tsubaki gave him her usual placid smile while her acidic words burned him through

"Careful, Soul Eater. Like mother, like daughter?"

It seemed to him that Kami Albarn's choices weren't just wrecking Maka's life.


	9. Chapter 8

Lemon next chapter, _I think_. So rating will go up next chapter as well. It was not my intention to re-write the series, so I'm not sure how much farther this will go. A few chapters at least. I can see the potential for off-the-deep-end length, but I think I'll try to hold myself to 4-5 chappies. I have the next 2 planned out in my headfat, but not written down yet.

Thanks for all the encouragement and support!

Disclaimer: (see part 1)

* * *

It felt wrong from the get-go and Maka should have called for backup from another team.

 _Sooner_. She should have called for backup sooner.

Oh fuck, his blood was everywhere and she didn't know how to stop it, and it was so _hot_. Her gloves were cast off to the side of her, useless while she needed to feel her way around dressing his wound.

The deranged goth girl—best guess since a black dress was involved—was crying in the corner and clutching at her head. Her keening echoed in the rotting warehouse and with molding boxes obscuring Maka's vision all she could really make out was a thrashing head of pink hair and the clanking of chains. The miserable noises could have been coming from Maka herself, but she ruled that out since she was too busy biting through her bottom lip for sound to be produced.

Soul's blood was scalding her hands, making them slippery as she ripped strips out of her long black coat and attempted to tie him back together like the most macabre version of paper mache imaginable. The places where the skin was showing a bit of rib didn't alarm her half so much as the slice close to his belly button where Soul's dark blood was welling out slowly but simultaneously much too quickly. She needed Stein, but he was a helicopter ride away at the very least. Sid and Nygus were deep in the southern rainforests of the Americas, the logical second choice. The only person who was even close enough to respond in the next hour was Kim. Kim was on her way already, and it was useless contacting Kid to send faster help. The facility they were at was two hours away from what could be termed civilization if you went the freeway speed limit on the desert highway.

"Soul, stay with me, _Soul_!" She knew he was alive, their resonance hadn't broken when he had gone down it had simply diminished. He was holding onto her spiritually, and she wouldn't have given a single shit if he had broken off a piece of her grigori soul if it meant he would stitch himself back together here and now and crack some joke about the whole situation.

Her whisper was dark and urgent as she spoke to him, "This can't happen here. I only figured out this morning that I was going to let you seduce me, which I think was what you tried to do last night… only I thought you really _had_ forgotten to pack underwear and sleeping shorts and I made you wash yours in the sink and wear my extra concert t-shirt and you looked so sad because you said you hate Deadmau5…" Words poured out of her without consulting her brain for filters. She wanted to shock him awake, but their resonance didn't even spike with her revelation.

The anguished cries from across the way were distracting her from her plea to Soul and Maka wanted nothing more than to stop trying to dress Soul's wound and fly over there to use her combat boots in the teeth of that monster. Even if that monster was a hundred pounds sopping wet and currently nonaggressive. Goth girl had been plenty aggressive when they had entered the warehouse to find out why two soul signatures seemed to be battling. The push and pull was still there if Maka focused on her, like a yin-yang fighting against itself but never really getting anywhere with it. Black Star would have been ideal for this, since he had perfected weaponizing his own soul energy in his strikes under Stein's guidance.

But Black Star wasn't here, and neither was anyone else. Soul just had to hold on. That mousey looking woman who had been standing guard at the factory gate, who had turned out to be a witch who wasn't very quick at defensive magic after hastily releasing her soul protect, hopefully had provided Soul with enough of an energy boost to keep him going. The noises of pleasure he had made when he had consumed her soul were obscene. Maka wished he would groan or something now so she had an indicator he was still fighting. Once she physically let him go their tenuous resonance would snap and then she'd have no way to know if he was dead or alive.

"Help me," The damp and scratchy voice of the pink haired maniac who had possibly destroyed the current center of Maka's personal universe had finally deigned to speak. Yelling 'go fuck yourself' wasn't productive but Maka thought it plenty loud as she ripped more strips out of her coat. At this point more layers were only present as a desperate attempt to keep his steaming blood inside rather than outside. She propped his knees up as best she could after knotting the bandages on the side of his body. Maka had been covered in her own blood, and the blood of other people, enough times that she didn't feel squeamish about Soul's but there was an element of horror here than she hadn't anticipated she would feel.

There were a lot of things going on inside of her she hadn't anticipated she would feel in this moment.

Maka couldn't help but replay the moment over and over in her mind's eye as she held his hand, her own still sticky with his drying blood, and concentrated on their resonance. The padlock on the door had cut like warm butter when Soul leveraged a converted arm against it. He transformed then, a reassuringly solid mass in her grasp, and Maka had carefully opened the door. Chains had clinked from the corner as Maka located the warring souls embodied in a single starved thin teenager in this stinking prison that had once served as a cannery for corn, or fruit, or whatever.

The stench had been overwhelming at first, with dust, mold, and the distinct odor that accompanies relieving oneself in a bucket you can't remove being predominant over the smell of rotting fruits and rust. Whoever was 'caring' for this person wasn't doing a stellar job, but then CPS didn't exactly have witch experiment victims on their radar. The Shibusen had noted activity out here, however, and rather than send Maka and her new partner deep into active duty they just sent her to secure and clean out a known staging area for experiments. Clean it out and burn it down. Any other time except the solstice there were too many witches circulating here for them to approach without unacceptable risk calculations or a proper raid team.

A soul divided, just one, in a shivering kid hadn't seemed like something the needed more hunters involved even if they didn't know that at the time. That queasy sense of wrongness had tingled in the back of her mind, telling her she'd never seen a soul like this before. No monster, no fractured human, and no witch looked like this scrawny pink haired victim of circumstance in the special vision that only Maka was privy to thanks to her grigori gifts. _He looks weird._ Had been Soul's contribution. _I can't put my finger on it, yet._ Maka had called Kim then, telling her to bring Jackie and maybe a sledge as well in case demonic fire couldn't melt the metal links.

The chains around her ankles had been magicked it turned out, and weren't worth dealing with yet, but the wall they were fastened to had been made of deteriorating concrete so Maka had been edging around the shivering form of the teen and examining it with an eye to braking it apart when there had been a sudden shift in soul energy as well as demeanor to the girl. Babbling to herself, she had pulled what appeared to be a slim black sword from fucking _nowhere_ and lashed out with a cry. No human could move that fast. Maka's side had been unprotected, having turned partially away from what looked like a chained and traumatized victim, but Soul had seen the strike coming and couldn't have done anything other than what he did to block the blow.

It should be Maka's guts spilling out of her middle, Soul's hand a lifeline to her spiritual presence or absence. The spot she had helped him stumble to had been as far as they could get before he passed out cold, or at least stopped making pained noises and had gone heavy and limp in her arms. The car they had arrived in was a lifetime away. Pinkie had fled to a corner as if _she_ had been savaged and not her supposed saviors.

"I'll watch every stupid show you like and when you put your feet in my lap I won't shove them off. Unless they smell." It was like a prayer, the dust swirling in light coming through the mostly broken windows above them. The sobbing in the corner was ceaseless, but Maka felt like it was appropriate to have mourners here now. Vaguely, picking on a memory from a book she had read ages ago on death practices, she thought of how people used to be paid to come cry at funerals. How much were one person's tears worth in this day and age?

"I'll do your laundry for a year, except underwear and towels. Those are still your problem." She had let go of his hand and was running her dirty fingers through his hair, feeling how it sprang back into place. Would he let her do the same when he was awake again, (if he woke up again)? It tangled in places against her fingers and she acted as his comb to get a knot or two out. Thanks to some low slung towels she knew that white hair that graced his head and eyebrows extended all the way down to his… legs.

"I'll stop setting the wards at night." That was a tear that fell out of her head. Were they worth more or less than the tears of someone who didn't care if this demon lived or died? Sentimentality didn't belong on a battlefield, so she tried to clamp down on it.

"Don't leave me _alone again_." Her heart's truth was too real and her voice choked on the last word. Was this feeling, this impending sense of fear and loss, why her mother hadn't hesitated in losing half her soul? When her papa had pulled away, had a bit of her mother died then? They had only been partners five months. How much stronger would these feelings get if they were together for years?

Eventually the sobbing in the corner stopped and Maka was left with a head full of thoughts while burning eyes watched the shuddering rise and fall of his chest as if it decided her future.

* * *

"Maka!" As soon as consciousness was an option, Soul tried to struggle upright only to discover that doing so was remarkably difficult given the restraints tying him to the hospital bed he apparently was residing in. Pain was a given so the fact that his struggles felt like a heart attack with each jerk of his arm was ultimately trivial.

"I had reduced your sedation level an hour ago. You're right on time. Remarkable how demon biology is much more predictable than humans in many respects." Light reflected off of Stein's glasses in the sterile and brightly lit room that didn't look much like anything in the Shibusen. He wondered where they were. "Stop moving, by the way, if you don't stop I'll have to put you under again."

Monitors beeped around him, some of the metrics he could see smoothing out into calm waves as his muzzy mind took everything in. "Where's Maka?"

"Upstairs sleeping. Marie had to crush a sleeping pill into some pudding, like you would for an animal. She was on the verge of collapse." Stein delivered the news like a punchline but to Soul it was more like a slap. Last set of memories he had involved them being attacked, so who knew what stupid thing she had jumped into while he was out of commission.

"Are you going to let me out of these?" Soul lifted his arm up as far as it would go before coming to a sudden jerking halt as the chain pulled taut attached to the wrist strap. "I could cut my way out but I figure you'll want to use them again."

Stein made no move towards Soul, his expression still a mask of amusement with the world at large. "I have a feeling you won't be doing that, regardless. You see, I have a few tests I need to run now that there's minimal risk of you trying to lop off my head in your sleep. There's no danger now, so struggling is pointless." Soul would rather be in a pitched battle with a witch's monster than stare down Stein.

His teeth ground against one another as Soul tried not to actively hate the 'good' doctor for being such a creepy bastard. "You should sedate me, then. I don't want any tests. You have questions? Yes, it hurts there. No, I'm not hungry. No, I don't need to use the bathroom. Get the hell out and let me rest." By rest, Soul really meant let him brood in the dark until Maka woke up and he could set his mind at ease that she was ok. He wondered if he could resonate with her at this distance, if the attempt would wake her up. Worry nauseated him, unless that was an after effect of the sedatives.

"Ok."

"Ok what?" Soul examined the doctor who had gracefully stood from the chair he had been straddling and wandered over to what looked like a repurposed child's dresser in baby blue and pulled out a syringe and a vial.

"I'll sedate you again. Can't be helped if you aren't going to cooperate, I suppose."

"Fuck! No!" Soul jerked against the restraints again and his right arm did partially transform and slice through the bond but as soon as his arm lifted and pulled at his chest muscles he saw stars from the pain that spiraled out. It felt like that one motion was tearing him apart, and while he was distracted by that sensation, the doctor had already inserted something into his I.V. "Fuck you Stein…"

The sight of the doctor preparing some strange looking equipment in the corner is all he had to hold onto before it was back to scattered fever dreams.

* * *

This was a shitty new development: Soul looked around a replica of the practice room in his family dwelling. Ancient stone walls with protective runes carved into them were covered by lush red velvet curtains, a sign of power and wealth since having enough time and energy to bring back human artifacts to the Infernal plane proclaimed the level of finesse and control they had over their human victims. It was better than mounting heads on the walls. The greatest prize of all was the baby grand piano sitting in the center of the room, and Soul still well remembered drilling exercises until his fingers bled to see if he could awaken his familial powers. He couldn't help but move towards it to swipe a finger against the polished side, leaving behind a streak that would be cleaned off by a servant imp once he left the room.

When puberty hit and he'd sprouted black blades from his body when irritated the old dreams had died for both him and his family. Their disappointment was nothing new to him. The first Muse in three centuries not to breed true. An anomaly. A freak among freaks.

"Won't you play for me?" Maka wound her way out of the shadows, her eyes a mirror of his with their ambient red glow. Her voice was a purr, and his hands came up to loosen his raw silk black tie a tad as if that would lessen his nervousness but only succeeded in reminding himself her tight dress was made of the same stuff. It was hypnotic the way her leg muscles jumped in those patent leather high heels as she wound her way over to him, to then cage him with her pale arms. Trapped between Maka and the piano, he wasn't sure which one scared him more.

"Play for me, Soul." A whole side of her body was flush against his, and there was no way the thin wool of his suit was hiding even the slightest bit of pressure from his arousal as it strained against her thigh. But it was when she detached from him and readjusted his tie that he saw her long crimson nails and finally put it together with a laugh that became a coughing fit.

When he brought his hand away from his mouth there were black flecks in the mucus that had dislodged from his lungs and coated his palm. Gross. He swiped his hand against his pant leg as if it would erase this moment from existence.

"Next time, try to remember that Maka bites her nails about down to the quick. And even if she didn't, she'd never keep them long. 'S not _practical_." The vision attempting to be Maka allowed him to slide away with a scowl on its painted lips. Purposefully turning his back to it to show how little he cared, Soul dragged the piano bench with a lot of terrible scraping noises to the corner where the old phonograph lived, evidence of a conquest of some grandparent's he'd never known. He wondered how the owner's soul had tasted even as he started the old machine up with its winding crank. Crackling sounds of long dead people's woes transported him to another time and place, which just so happened to feel a lot like the here and now.

Not-Maka stared at him from across the room with her accusatory burning succubus eyes and Soul wondered how long he'd have to wait before he woke up from this fucking nightmare. He loosened his tie again for good measure.

* * *

Residential safe houses were the worst, Maka thought as she rooted through expired food in the fridge. People would always purchase things in the moment and then leave them here, which was why clutter slowly filled the kitchen and bedrooms: broken weapons, bits and pieces of outfits, food no one could eat without checking dates on the box first, and dust everywhere except the triage room. Soul had been sleeping for days and as a consequence she simply hadn't been. The pink haired kid had been bound and gagged and left in the basement while Soul had been frantically moved into the room that Stein had prepped for surgery. They had only moved the youth yesterday in a secure van, Marie acting as guard for the trip. Vague guilt regarding their new prisoner skimmed along her mind, but Maka spent a lot more time in deep waters so she'd have to revisit the poor bedraggled thing when they returned home…

Kim had driven like a bat out of hell as soon as she and Jackie had arrived and discovered Soul and Maka in the warehouse. The pink haired wraith had been hastily handcuffed, broken free of the leg shackles, and shoved into the trunk space of the car Maka had rented and that Jackie drove back for her to the safe house. Stein would be able to join them at in almost as much time as it would take them to get there by car. It was a good thing this mission had been just a hop over the state border.

Other than hauling that unstable bag of bones out of the warehouse, as the emaciated teen could barely walk and did nothing but blubber, Maka hadn't left Soul's side. Since she had let go of her resonance she hadn't been able to reestablish it while he was unconscious, but she had reassured herself on the drive over by placing her hand on the uninjured part of his chest to feel it rise and fall. The skin to skin contact underlined how amazing it was that when he was a weapon made of demon steel that smooth quality was mimicked by his skin. Demons didn't get moles or freckles, or pimples unless they drew them in as a type of human camouflage. Maka had spent hours examining her pores in the mirror, envious of models in magazines that seemed as unreal and inhuman as the weapons she'd grown up around.

Kim had grilled her for details while they flew down the freeway as fast as the floored acceleration pedal would take them, and it had kept Maka's mind off of her worries to recount things again and again as she had been taught to impress every detail indelibly in her mind. The only lesson she could take from it, as Stein watched the tired women haul Soul's limp form through the back door of the house and into his prepped surgery room, was this was her fault.

If she hadn't gotten so close, if she hadn't been turned away, if she'd waited for backup to get there instead of forging ahead, if she wasn't such a damned moron.

No weapon had ever died from infection so if Soul made it through the surgery then he'd be ready to fight in a couple months, but Maka wondered if she'd be able to say the same. It was supposed to be her skin in the game, not his. Soul's willingness to sacrifice himself was the kind of thing that could break a master. He could be a friend, a partner, a tool, but now Maka saw him as _more_.

Soul was the guy who told her to shower when she stunk, and who wouldn't let her wear her shoes in the house when they were dirty. He complained every single step of the way when he had to help with dishes, but then woke up early to put them away so quietly he never woke her. The motorcycle lessons were nonrefundable, too. All those hours of watching motorcycle customization reality shows couldn't have been in vain.

Wandering out of the kitchen with a glass of water that had more than a hint of orange tint to it, she flipped on the tiny television and woodenly took a seat on the couch. As Maka waited for the go-ahead that he had woken up and was conscious enough for visitors, every muscle in her legs twitching involuntarily, she watched the soap opera playing on the television and tried not to laugh desperately at how her life was barreling towards equally ridiculous circumstances. If only she knew enough Spanish to follow the plot.


	10. Chapter 9

I feel conflicted. I set Maka up to be lonely, repressed, and work driven… without the emotional intelligence to navigate having a handsome male who suddenly has access to her whole hidden emotional life she's left with having to make some weird decisions. Arm's length isn't an option, and she's thrown herself into danger before. This lemon is brought to you by last chapter's trauma of finding out you kind of want to keep the nice thing you just discovered was a nice thing. Without some sort of shock to her system she probably would have stayed the course on crossing her fingers and waiting for the hormones to fade.

Because once Maka decides on a course of action she follows through on it! Even when it is literally insanity. We've all seen that. Rating upped! (Honestly been so long since I wrote a lemon I stalled out at that part of the scene for an embarrassingly long time, and I still feel a little weird about it.) Probably more Crona next chapter. Depends on how hard they are to write for...

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

Even though he didn't need to eat food, not really, Soul found himself snacking absently as part of the ritual of sitting on the couch in a t-shirt and robe and watching TV. Cheesy poofs were his current favorite, and Maka was keeping him supplied even as she told him he was going to grow into the couch if he spent any more time on it. His response had been to slouch a little more and spread his legs in his robe, giving her a fine view of his canary yellow boxer briefs, thus earning him a red faced master and at least another hour without her meddling into his slothfulness.

Medical leave was pretty sweet, in his estimation, even if the process of getting it had been crappy beyond belief. The puckered healing skin around his scar itched like the devil but he couldn't scratch it without spirals of pain reminding him that was a bad move. Also too bad was how the itching was an unceasing reminder he'd almost been gutted like a fish from shoulder to crotch.

Maka had been using their forced vacation to try to unravel the mystery of that scrawny bastard who had put them out of commission in the first place. Soul would just as soon never see him again, but Maka was convinced this 'Crona' needed their compassion. The most compassion Soul could conjure in his own heart was a sense of empathy over the kid's stupid shaggy bowl of a haircut, since he'd been fighting his own thick mess since practically birth. Not a lot of demons you could trust to hold a blade to your head on the Infernal plane.

"Are you going to come with me today?" Maka had been puttering around since early this morning, but she never managed to stay inside long these days. He suspected her avoiding him, but she was perfectly cordial in the evenings so that didn't seem right. When asked about her weird moods, she had mumbled something about the days being darker in winter and Soul struggled to connect it to anything logical. Maybe some mysterious woman issue.

"And get pulled aside by Stein for more needles in my arm? Thanks, no."

"He said that it seemed like something had contaminated that first batch of blood work he did. That house _was_ pretty filthy." She stepped into her boots by the door and tightened the straps. "You'll have to go in at some point so he can finish his tests."

"Have fun! Bye!" Soul didn't want to talk about it. Thinking about the things Stein had told him when he woke up the second time…

"Jeez, don't sound so happy. Want anything while I'm out?" He arched a pale eyebrow at her and she sighed. "Seriously, I think you might be made of more fake cheese than flesh at this point." Her words trailed off as she zipped up her jacket and stepped out in to the hallway. The door clicked with finality.

Soul's lazy countenance sharpened as soon as Maka was out of the apartment. Rolling his shoulders back to hear vertebrae crack in in his back, he allowed the sigh to escape his lips. So long as Maka was home there was always the possibility she would sense his anxiety, and he wouldn't be able to mask it much longer.

While sirens played over the speakers from the TV as the timestamp flashed over the dashcam of the Cops season he was inadvertently marathoning, Soul picked his way through last night's conversation with Maka.

" _So demons get married right?"_

 _If she was going for a spit take, she had timed it wrong. All Soul did was swallow his water funny and proceed to cough while Maka looked on with that expression of hers that reminded him way too much of Stein. He was the bug she had pinned to the felt._

" _Yeah, I mean, kinda. You had to study this stuff right?"_

" _I read it in books, but they all said contradictory 'stuff'. You can't possibly think this show about women picking out wedding dresses is interesting."_

 _Honestly, he was only watching it to get a rise out of her. Maka hated television that was so far from educational it actually killed brain cells (but would tolerate and even enjoy action in a pinch). This seemed to fit the bill to make her squirm. She hadn't challenged his TV choices ever since he got hurt, and something had to give soon. Operation: Annoy Maka had backfired royally._

" _Well…" Flashes of white and cream had his crimson eyes flickering from the screen back to Maka. "I mean, it's more like contractual breeding rights. I guess. In your terms."_

" _Explain." It was a question and an order. She couldn't know that it did funny things to him when she did that. Soul never suspected he'd like being ordered around by anyone._

" _Uhh, you can have a short term contract… an interested party approaches you and if you agree to it you get a lawyer to draw up a contract and then you, uh, do it until a kid pops out. The initiator of the contract keeps the kid and then you become a free agent again." It was less awkward when Black Star had introduced him to the concept of strip clubs. He hadn't blushed then, even when he'd spent half the night scrubbing body glitter off before he went home._

" _But you have a brother, right? You've mentioned him before."_

 _Shit he had? When had he mentioned Wes? Sometimes it was hard to imagine that Maka hadn't met him in some way. Her presence was so large in his mind that life prior to Maka was harder to place than life after Maka appeared. Timelines were getting confused even if meeting her was emblazoned in his grey matter._

" _There are exclusive long term contracts, too. I guess you'd think of that as marriage here."_

" _Do you have any kids?" She looked honestly curious but Soul wished she'd drop it. Theoretical was one thing, and personal was a whole other arena._

 _Soul fiddled with the belt on his robe and retorted without thinking. "Do you? And how many partners? That Hiro guy gives you googly eyes whenever we run into him and I heard some things..."_

" _Nevermind then! Sheesh, you can just tell me it's rude to ask this stuff instead of getting angry. It's not like I would know one way or another."_

 _He hated that she hadn't answered the question even though he already knew he wouldn't like the answer. Truthfully, he really had heard some things from Black Star when he asked why such a baby faced paper pusher was always in Maka's path. Hearing that they used to date like hours before he and Maka were supposed to leave to check into that motel across the state line had inspired what had to be the worst and most hastily assembled seduction plan in the history of that shit. Unsuccessful was putting it mildly._

 _They watched a woman squeal and hug all her bridesmaids in turn on screen. Watching this to torture Maka was torturing him as well. "For the record: no." He smiled at her with every one of his white pointy teeth. "Defective, you see."_

 _Neither one of them had much to say after that._

* * *

She had meant to go see Crona, but somehow her booted feet had ended up squarely in front of the ice cream shop where she had had her thirteenth birthday. Mama and Papa had both been there, with Mama absently arranging their orders while Papa had fussed over Maka. Even before he'd had a soul, or a portion of one, he'd always been really attentive to Maka. Making Maka happy was a lot easier than making Kami happy, he had said once to her, and it wasn't like he didn't have any feelings. Having a soul didn't make you a good person (or demon) just like the absence of one didn't make you an evil one either. Souls nourished qualities that already existed, like plugging an electric guitar into an amp. Demons could feel all the same emotions as people, like hate and anger and love.

When he'd gotten half a soul all at once, Papa had told her, it was like it took his heartbreak and magnified it by a thousand. Then Maka had dragged him out of the bar until he could remember his legs worked. Not a great fifteenth birthday, that one.

But turning thirteen had been a happy day. There had been soda and candy and ice cream and Maka had dug in under the rare attention of the legendary woman she aspired to be like and never had a chance to talk to about anything. Marie had been the one to help Maka buy tampons that year for the first time. Nygus was the one who had carried her from the practice room with a badly twisted ankle after popping her knee back in the socket and bandaging her up, (even praising her for not screaming). Kami was like a myth of a mother, a goddess to worship from afar like Papa did even though he was out all night every night they were off duty. Off duty had been the rule instead of the exception around that time.

Before Maka had time to think about it, she was sitting in front of a scoop of chocolate chip mint with whipped cream and a cherry on top. The whipped cream and cherry combo made her think of Soul, and she swallowed thickly before taking her first spoonful of the sweet stuff.

No one was here to eat ice cream in the middle of a January day so she had plenty of silence among the hum of refrigeration units and the low mumbles of a radio in the back to try to let her thoughts coalesce into something like sense:

 _1\. She knew demon physiology and hormones were similar enough to humans that they were considered roughly compatible._

 _2\. Black Star had been dragging Soul with him to his usual haunts in town since he was a year older and only just made the cut for all the "adult" entertainment around (he should be grateful they didn't go by height like a roller coaster) which included bars and strip clubs._

 _3\. Soul considered her, on some level, attractive enough to want to engage in something physical (based on the missing underwear incident) (See thought 2 for the spark that probably lit that fire)._

 _4\. Demons had contractual sex for procreation; emotions were not involved._

 _5\. Maka was similarly experiencing hormones (see item 1) ever since she had started seeing him as a man instead of a tool._

 _6\. Given that Soul had hormones (1) and had been put in situations to ignite said hormones (2), Maka was the closest target of said urges (3) and it wasn't motivated by anything messy like emotions (4)._

 _7\. Given item 6 and item 5, together, maybe if this was a physical act and not an emotional one then it was still keeping with the spirit of the rule not to have a relationship with your weapon._

Problem solved right? She should sleep with Soul, get the hormones out of the way for both of them, and then there would be no more dire thoughts of parallels to her Mama. Said Mama was on a tropical island enjoying herself, probably. Soul was usually the voice of reason right about here, if this had been a battle, and he would have interjected some counter point that made complete sense and reframed the problem for her brilliantly. Then again, how often did his counterpoints really make a difference when she'd set her mind on an outcome?

Maka stared at her half melted ice cream, unsure of how long she had been mulling over her issues, and really hoped a tropical vacation was in her future somewhere, too. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had any kind of vacation, let alone a tropical one. The idea that somewhere evil was awaiting smiting and she was sitting around doing nothing about it would drive her mad, so actually taking a vacation seemed unlikely. Maybe Mama would send a post card.

Finishing the ice cream and drinking the melted portion like a shot, she disposed of her trash, squared her shoulders, and lengthened her strides back in the direction of her apartment.

* * *

Soul's head bobbed sleepily as a police officer responded to a domestic disturbance on the screen across the room, but an electric crackle that felt distinctly foreign jerked him awake in time to see Maka push the front door open and toss a bag of cheese puffs at him. Cheese puffs had a dubious amount of lethality but everything hurt like a bitch when it hit his chest these days.

"What the actual fuck, Albarn!?" Soul saw the way she strode into the house with her dirty boots and burning cheeks and went into business mode. "Did something happen? What's going on?"

Maka drew the blinds on the window, effectively shrouding the room in near darkness since she was the one who liked every stupid light on in every room and Soul who turned them all off when she was gone. Backlit by the red and blue flashing lights on the TV Maka was all long legs, messy hair, and intensity. There was no way she could have known how similar she looked to Not-Maka from his recent dreams, and he prayed to Death that his body would remember that for enough minutes to get through this conversation and into a safe place. He had already taken one shower today, but it wasn't like she was the shower police.

"We're both adults here," she started, but he was far more interested in the way she ran her tongue over her dry lips. That electric tingle was trying to creep its way down his spine again, but slowly this time.

"I take it the city is _not_ being torn apart by witches and monsters then."

"And as adults we can make decisions and deal with the consequences of those decisions," Maka was forging ahead paying him about as much mind as she ever did when she was in a battle frenzy.

Soul wasn't feeling too sure about that set to her jaw, but he usually enjoyed the ride even if her loss of control concerned him now and then. "Yeaaah, I guess so. But I hope there's a point to all this because you scared the absolute shi—"

"Do you want me?"

The screeching of some redneck woman in the background was about the pitch of the scream in his head as the sensible voice in there told him _it's a trap_! "Are you drunk again? How about you sit down, get this paranoid delusion stuffed back down inside with some cheesy puffs, and we can have a relaxing early dinner or something." He patted the seat next to him on the couch, no longer slouching even a little as he watched her peel off her coat and drop it to the ground before smoothing down the pleats in her skirt. It shouldn't have been sexy, but something about this whole situation was causing every hair on his body to stand up.

"Answer the question, Soul." She was leaning on their connection pretty hard, and he could feel sweat start to bead high on his forehead.

"It's a pretty general question." He deadpanned. "As a master? Yeah, of course."

Maka snorted and marched up to him so that he was nearly nose to bellybutton with her white button down. "Are you so dense that I have to 'forget to pack my underwear' too?"

Soul connected the dots slower than his body had because as she reached down to pull apart his robe he couldn't hide the t-shirt with the orange stains on the front or the highly visible yellow tent he had erected as her words curled through him.

"Wait, Maka…" But not a single muscle in his body moved to stop her as she sank to her knees in front of him. Clearly he had fallen asleep and this was just another one of those dreams that always ended before anything good happened, as he woke up sweating buckets and cursing in his native tongue. However, those dreams rarely featured a package of cheese puffs crinkling in his hand, or the feeling of Maka's strong fingers gripping his thighs as she pried them open and slid in closer.

Where in the fuck did she get that kind of confidence?!

"Turn off the TV." She said it in such a perfectly conversational tone, like they were sitting together watching some guy in a mullet get handcuffed on the hood of a car and not in a completely compromising tableau. Maybe Soul was straight up hallucinating, since dream seemed unlikely. He gave up his death grip on the snacks and fumbled his way around the remote, plunging the room into what felt like ominous silence and near blackness. The low light did not obscure his vision as badly as it did for Maka, but she didn't hesitate in her blind exploration of his lower half. A strangled groan slipped through Soul's gritted teeth as he resisted pushing straight off the couch and pinning her to the floor. He was pretty sure she wasn't the kind of girl that got pinned by anyone, for one thing.

"Now I realize, with your injury our options are somewhat limited," Maka spoke in that overly rational tone she slipped into when she was delivering Maka Facts even as her hands crept up to his hips and back down to his thighs, causing his breath to hitch. "So just let me know if something is uncomfortable."

"This!" Soul heard the words tear out of his mouth even as his dick told him to _shut up and let this happen_. "What the hell is going on Maka? Are you possessed? You're not thinking clearly."

"I've just accepted that fighting against an inevitability takes too much energy. I'm neither blind nor stupid. I've seen the way Black Star looks at Tsubaki, or the way Tsubaki looks back. And I'm not going to kill myself at the gym or take up cooking just to take my mind off things. I won't make other's mistakes." He would think she was hard as a diamond and twice as cold if it weren't for the fact that her throbbing emotions were so thinly veiled from him. She was going to say it was just sex, and she might even talk herself into believing that, but Soul figured if that were true there'd be more men in her past than Hiro. "And I think this… tension is making us sloppy. This means there will be one less distraction in our partnership."

Soul had a really nice bridge to sell her later.

"I almost lost you back there. I won't accept any more loose variables." Her voice was soft, and Soul wanted to laugh at the deluded depths of her rationalizations except that she very literally had him by the balls.

He could talk her out of it; all he needed to do was say something soppy and emotional. What came through his clenched teeth was in fact, "If you say so. You're the master here." Since looking a gift horse straight in the mouth wasn't his style. His anemic sense of morality flogged him mentally.

Maka made a pleased affirmative sound, hooking her fingers in the elastic of his waistband and skimming her fingers along the edge until she brushed against his tip. The oath he swore involuntarily promised Maka nearly anything so long as she would stop teasing him, but since it came out only half in English he had to trust she got the gist of it as she pulled his underwear down his hips just enough to release him into the cold air.

There was something obscene about being half dressed and disheveled while Maka was still fully clothed in front of him, but he only had a moment's respite before her strong hand gripped the base of his shaft. He wanted to weep it felt so good.

"Shiiiiiiit." Articulate as usual, Soul thought sardonically, as his abdomen flexed painfully and reflexively in Maka's direction. Stilling his wiggling hips by placing strong hands on either side of him and gently restraining him, she then bent down and took him into her mouth which was a whole new level of insanity. Her tongue felt incredible as it swirled around him, but even that paled in comparison as she pulled back only to sink down over him again. Soul could feel his fingernails biting into his palm as he tried not to grab her by the head and force the action to speed up. Later, in the dark of his room, he could brood over how good she was at this and how for all purposes this was his first time (not solo anyway). All the porn in the world couldn't have prepared him for the intensity of his feelings, bodily and emotionally.

A fine sheen of sweat was breaking out on his body, the pleasure edged with pain so confusing he wasn't sure if he was close or not. Maka seemed to sense it was time to change things up and relinquished her punishingly slow pace. She pushed up from the floor, standing over Soul like some sort of mythic figure all he could do was worship with his glowing eyes.

"Don't move, you'll hurt yourself." Her voice was husky, thick with lust and her obvious satisfaction at getting him deliriously close. Then carefully, with that agile grace she usually saved for battle, Maka climbed onto Soul's lap, bracing her arms on the couch back to make sure as little weight as possible landed on him. Then, even as Soul seemed to find his breath again, she reached down between her legs to pull aside her underwear and sink down onto him in one clean motion. It was like and unlike the sensation of her mouth on him, impossibly tighter and hotter, and now there was nothing stopping him from thrusting up into her other than the fracturing pain from his center.

If he died right there and then he figured he'd dissipate happy with no regrets.

Soul's whole world seemed to center around Maka and her methodical movements. The closer he looked at her, with her lip caught in her teeth in concentration and her hair swinging in front of her face, the more abstract his thoughts became. It felt like she had consumed him in some particularly hard to describe way when the rush of feeling reached an apex and he came hard into her. Soul wasn't sure if he had cried out her name or merely said it so hard in his mind it felt like yelling. Panting, Maka slowed then stopped as she realized she wasn't going to be able to get any farther this time around.

Her face was so close he could see the reflection of his red eyes in her dark pupils. "Sorry," _Sorry for not stopping you. Sorry for making things complicated. Sorry for coming too soon. Sorry for ruining your whole fucking life, probably._

There was a flash of teeth as she smiled without humor. "There's time for me later." He could feel her impatience for release biting at the back of his mind, but she gave away not a bit of it as she stood up again and arched her back in a brief stretch. The pop of her spine rewarded her efforts. "Like everything else, we'll just have to keep practicing until we're in synch."

Soul felt like there wasn't enough water in the world to cure how dry his throat had become.


	11. Chapter 10

No idea when Maka's birthday is supposed to be (the internets were unhelpful). So I made her an Aquarius (seemed to fit and it at least keeps my ramblings consistent with the other piece I wrote this week).

I think next chapter might be hijinks. Depends how wacky I'm feeling.

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

"When do you want me to pick you up?" Soul zipped up his jacket and Maka watched as he comically shrugged his shoulders over and over to get the leather to settle the way he liked.

"When you bring home a certificate of completion for those safety courses." A ride would actually have been super convenient, bus schedules being what they were, but she had to have standards.

Soul was getting increasingly frustrated with her answer, one he'd heard half a dozen times since he started using his Christmas present last week. "This was your idea, you know. And keep in mind our job is to _fight evil monsters_. How is riding a motorcycle where you draw the line?"

"More people die from traffic accidents than monsters, witches, and demons combined, you know."

Grumbles behind her as she left the apartment first made her smile briefly, but those fluttery feelings she'd been having more of around Soul lately were unacceptable. If the goal of initiating a physical relationship had been to quash those feelings, then it was a spectacular failure in practice. Maka wasn't about mourning past decisions, however, when there was more to be done with the day.

"Hey, hold up, I need some money for gas!" Soul jogged up next to her as they both exited the building into the depressingly cloudy February morning.

"I thought motorcycles took _less_ gas than a car." She felt like money was practically pouring out of her account.

"Maybe if you don't ride them all day long." Soul was on the receiving end of a look of pure disapproval. "I need to practice, right?" Grinning with every one of his pointed teeth showing should have been more threatening than charming, but her insides churned anyway. This just wouldn't do.

Digging into her wallet, she grabbed a small bill and held it out. Soul continued smiling in her direction as he accepted her offer, while she sighed and grabbed her bus pass since she had the wallet in hand. "I'll be out until around dinner, if you feel like coming by headquarters before then."

"Maybe." They both knew it meant no. Soul's insistence that he didn't want to be poked and prodded by Stein coupled with the inability to sustain his scythe form for long while he was still healing meant he had no reason to visit the center.

There was a moment when Soul seemed to search her face, as if he had something to say and was trying to figure out if he wanted to say it to her mouth, nose, or eyebrow. In the end he seemed to decide against it, having realized that he'd paused too long simply staring. Their awkwardness together pained Maka, who wondered how well they would resonate once they could start combat practice together next month.

"See you later!" Maka said a little too brightly and turned towards the bus stop. A hand on her shoulder stopped her, and she tilted her head back to see Soul's pained expression.

"Hey…" She didn't want to breathe or blink, feeling the moment crystallize between them—"Nevermind, maybe later."—and shatter.

"If you end up at Black Star's again at least let me know." The two idiots had watched some sort of sports thing a couple nights ago and then played video games so late they both passed out and Soul had slunk in the next morning to an irritated partner. Black Star in between missions was always trouble, more so now that he and Soul had man-bonded. Too much testosterone was a dangerous thing.

"Yeah, sure."

They moved in their separate directions while Maka tried to figure out what Soul could possibly be brooding about. Hopefully it was the same thing she found herself obsessing over, which was merely the compartmentalizing and conquering of her inconvenient tenderness for her partner. It was up to her to keep things purely physical. Maka's faith that the mind could overcome any problem was still absolute.

* * *

"Hold up, Maka!" Her stomach sinking, Maka again thought how nice it was when Soul came with her to headquarters. Hiro never came up to her when Soul was by her side, and he looked especially handsome today with his fitted slacks and slim cut designer dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves. If he had grown up in a normal family, he probably would have gone off to Hollywood to be a star or become a model. Maka knew for a fact that all Hiro's nicely sculpted muscles were completely cosmetic, i.e. useless.

"I just need your signature on this form, you know how this kind of stuff goes." Hiro's laugh practically tinkled. There had always been a certain delicate masculinity to Hiro that simultaneously made her want to both protect him and push him around. It was inexplicable.

"Is that the last one? Really the last one?" Ever since she had been spending more time in the central building Hiro had been making excuses to come find her. When she had been too busy with missions, then too busy dealing with training her weapon, there hadn't been a chance to catch her.

Hiro managed so many seemingly unimportant aspects of her life (Shibusen payroll, benefits administration, insurance claims) and he always had a new form he 'forgot' to get her to sign as part of her and her partner's medical leave. He was a perfect outward face to legitimize the center to the unsuspecting community, but to Maka he would always be the worst decision she had ever made. The six months they had spent together when she was seventeen had felt a little bit like an eternity.

"You're so funny, Maka." Totally avoiding the question, as always, he trailed after her puppy-style as she swept down the hallway projecting as much menace as she could. Hiro never could take a hint. "So, as you know I keep a calendar with everyone's birthday on it and yours is coming up soon. I didn't know if you were planning on anything, like say a dinner or something, but I'd be really happy if—"

Cutting him off was crucial, her usual excuse of having a mission wasn't going to work this year. "This is the first year I'll be around for my birthday and I think Papa was really hoping we could spend some quality family time together." It was a lesser evil, and so long as Hiro didn't open his big mouth and spread it around she might not have to see Spirit either. Even the most mundane displays of affection from Maka ended up being so overblown by the sensitive Deathscythe that she often avoided him at strategic holidays. If Spirit knew she had said she wanted to spend her birthday with him, he would have wept with joy. Copiously. Embarrassingly.

Even Hiro's look of disappointment was adorable, pushing a silky blond lock back from his face with a lopsided grin. "I think it's sweet you're so connected to your family. Have a great twenty-first!" The fount of positivity from him made Maka feel like the worst person, but encouraging him would have been even crueler.

Watching his athletic behind retreat to his office near the entrance of the building, Maka wondered yet again if that vague sense of pity she had for him was the same kind of pity the other witch hunters had had for her before she had gotten Soul. Angst and depression over her lot in life had driven her towards Hiro initially—the worst trainee hunter of their generation—but pretending to be a normal girl in a normal relationship had hurt worse than the feelings of inadequacy from her lack of demon weapon.

Speaking of feelings of inadequacy…

Lower than the training halls and infirmary, lower than the war rooms, lower than the storage for armor and weapons, but not quite into the areas that even Maka couldn't gain admittance to, there were cells. Some of these cells were nicer than others, and it wasn't very far in before the fluorescent lighting illuminated a shock of pink hair bowed down over scabbed over knees. Crona was a ball of quiet misery, as per usual.

"Hey, it's me." She spoke softly, as if she were approaching a frightened child. Nygus had told her that Stein's brief examination of the teen put Crona's age closer to Maka's than she ever would have suspected. Malnutrition and rough treatment kept Crona underdeveloped, even as cords of muscle stood out on their arms. Unlike Hiro's lean bulges, all of Crona's muscles were perfectly capable of feats that a malnourished individual should never have been capable of—the dents left in the bolted down metal bedframe and a tiny incident during initial transport had made Crona's danger to others very clear.

"Did you take a look at the book I gave you?"

There was a barely perceptible head nod, only telegraphed through the swaying of pink hair. Today was a bad day, it seemed.

"I re-read a few chapters last night myself, just in case you wanted to talk about a part you like."

Shoulders shrugged, but Crona lifted their head up enough that Maka could see mournful eyes pointed in her direction. Carefully staying several body lengths away as per usual, Maka sat down on the floor across from Crona and began to talk about her day.

"Soul has been taking lessons in motorcycle safety, I told you about that last week, and he somehow talked me into spending what felt like every last penny we had in savings to get him a used bike. It's kind of old, but he and Black Star seem to think it's the coolest thing they ever clapped their eyes on." Maka allowed herself a chuckle. "Tsubaki said she saw Black Star looking up custom bikes online, and every time he brings it up she starts talking about basketball. So far that seems to be working."

Seemingly human. Stein had said. But also no freckles, moles, or birthmarks. Wouldn't talk to anyone about anything, even during one of Sid's interrogations, but asked unprompted about the 'green eyed girl'. That's how Maka got mixed up in all this. Crona didn't want to interact with anyone, except for perhaps Maka but maybe not even her the way things usually went. Kid had told Maka that priority one was to get information, as a half-demon with PTSD was still a half-demon and they needed to know more about why they were in that factory. It had been a month and all Maka knew was a name, and that Crona's hair color was legitimately pink.

"Every time he asks me to go for a ride all I can think is how many ways we're unprotected on a motorcycle. At least in a car there's a layer between an outside attack and you."

"…the same." Crona spoke so low sometimes it was hard to tell words had escaped at all.

"What?"

"It's all the same. Metal. Air." Slowly, a black blade coalesced in Crona's hand and with an easy swipe-swipe the small bolted down metal desk and chair in the corner collapsed in on itself in pieces. "Mother taught me safety is an illusion."

This was not the first time Maka had seen the blade appear, but it was the first time she had seen Crona use it since their unfortunate first encounter. It was perfectly obvious the only reason Crona was still in this room was because they either wanted to be, or they didn't have enough imagination to escape.

"You're safe around me." Maka tried to back her voice with steel but her heart beat in her ears as every bit of her training told her to get out and find a weapon. Sitting still and smiling was an act of pure willpower.

Crona regarded Maka with the same sad face they always had. "I don't know about that."

At the edge of her vision, Maka watched Crona's soul fight against consumption from their demon half. Rarer even than a Grigori soul old enough to drink, finding a half-demon was like winning the lottery. Crona might be the first in a hundred years or more. Was it lonely to be the only one of your kind? Despised by demons, feared by humans, even if Crona did leave they would be hunted as an abomination. Other than the very real possibility of starvation, Crona seemed otherwise indestructible.

"My mama went on a vacation recently, I don't imagine I'll see her any time soon." There was no regret in her voice, Maka made sure of that. "She was the most amazing fighter, and I don't think I'll ever get to her level, but I can keep trying. What's your mama like?"

Crona shuddered and buried their head back into their knees before a small voice broke the room's silence. "I don't know… _strong_." And after a longer pause came the whisper. " _Frightening_."

In the Shibusen mental strength and physical strength had to go hand in hand or you eventually succumbed to madness. Crona's captors seemed to have engineered strength of body and frailty of mind to some purpose. What Crona needed was a therapist, and maybe a friend. Maka wasn't sure if she was equipped to be either, but she was the only one here to deal with it having been handed a mission she couldn't brute force her way through or think circles around.

"It's my birthday soon, Crona. If I can get permission I think you should come have dinner and see a movie with me and Soul."

There was no movement from the youth, but tension activated around Crona like an aura. "In here?"

"No. Not in here." She swallowed, watching Crona's soul swirl in her vision like a whirlpool. "Is that something you'd want to do?"

Turmoil. Indecision. Worry. "I don't know."

"I'll see if I can get permission anyway. They might say no, they'll probably say no, but I feel like the least I can do is try to give you a choice."

It was a horrible idea, really, but Maka's intuition was telling her it was the right thing to do.

* * *

"It's a horrible idea!" For one thing, Soul had already internalized that Maka wasn't really into celebrating her birthday for various reasons and had planned on respecting her wish to 'keep it low key' by simply making her dinner and then giving her a massage (which he had hoped would become an opportunity for something else once she was relaxed and mostly unclothed). Babysitting a lunatic for a night because Maka felt bad for them seemed like the opposite of low key.

"You don't have to be there, honestly I'm not even sure why I told you."

"I'm sure as hell not letting you go alone!"

Maka rolled her eyes as she chopped up carrots for the stew she was making in the slow cooker. As expected, her knife skills were impeccable even if every attempt at the crockpot so far had been bland but nutritious.

"You let me go alone nearly every day already. How would this be any different?"

Soul wasn't really sure why either, other than the idea of Maka having an intimate dinner with the person who she spent hours and hours a day with every… oh Death, he was jealous of that freak. The urge to smack his head into one of the upper kitchen cabinets was very strong.

"Maybe you're right and I should be meeting you at headquarters." Soul tried to keep it calm. Maka wouldn't even let them cuddle after sex, the idea that she could possibly think of that pink haired creature as anything other than a mission was far fetched. Then again, with his albino coloring and freakish teeth it was hard to know what it was that drew Maka to him at all. Not his stellar personality for sure.

"Stein was the one that thought it would be a good idea. Secretly, I think he just hopes everything will go sideways and he'll be given leave to dissect Crona for science…"

It was a dark day when Soul and good doctor found their goals align. While watching Maka unwrap and cube up the beef she had bought, Soul tried to offer up some more reason. She liked logic right? He'd logic the shit out of this. "What about all the innocent bystanders? You going to risk them too?"

"My birthday's on a Tuesday night, Sid said they could probably get a small private party room booked for cheap. I wasn't about to go totally alone, obviously."

It was totally unreasonable to think this way, but an insistent voice in the back of his head laughed at him. One freak traded for another. What if she was grooming Crona to be her new partner? A partner that wasn't useless outside of weapon form, that wouldn't talk back to her, that could protect her, and who probably already worshipped the ground she walked on…

"Pass me the salt."

The voice, which sounded like him in his head and yet spoke of ideas he never would have imagined, wove a tale of his future without Maka. Abandoned, he'd have to slink home and live off the scraps his family threw him or stay on the mortal plane and go rogue. If he went rogue, eventually he'd be hunted down and killed by the very same people he played pick up basketball games with now. Maybe he'd have a chance if he made the first move and ate that enticing soul standing right in front of…

"Hey, earth to Soul, salt please!"

The salt grinder was in his hand and he hadn't moved to give it to her for Death knew how long. Blinking back what felt like a darkness creeping over his vision, Soul forced a smile and finally brought the salt to Maka's impatient hand. He could feel his heart race in his chest as if he'd spent the day training hard with Black Star. The dreams he had of the music room at home were happening nightly, but this was the first time those dark whispers had followed him into his waking hours. That he could remember, anyway.

"I think this one is going to turn out pretty well. I actually bought a seasoning packet this time so I don't have to guess at it." Maka hummed to herself gently as she rubbed salt into the meat and dropped it in with the chopped vegetables.

Not-Maka had moved from seduction to abuse lately, reminding him how useless he was, how weak, ugly and despised. Last night, in a fit of anger he had struck her in his dream only to wake up sweating and thrashing around in his bed half expecting to find blood on his hands. It hadn't escaped his notice that Maka had stopped setting the wards, and he was on the verge of asking her if she could start again.

…But asking her to do something like that was as good as an admission that he couldn't handle whatever it was that was causing these dreams. He felt like his fears were on the tip of his tongue, but as soon as he went to tell her his pride choked the words back down.

"Good thing too, that last soup tasted like dishwater." The large wooden spoon that smacked him in the forehead still had a piece of chopped celery sticking to it. Joke was on her, now she had to wash it before she stirred the pot again.


	12. Chapter 11

Almost have a second (final) part done for a oneshot I did called Coffee Talk (because that makes sense) but in the meantime… this. Work/life transformed itself into a fiendish realm of personal and professional strife for a while. Oh delays. I have my eye on an ending for this, I think, in 3 ish more chapters.

As weird as it sounds I kind of want to do a oneshot based of a retooled version of this premise, only darker. That's approaching writing fanfiction based off my own fanfiction which seems like a narcissistic thing to do so I'm waffling. If you feel strongly about it one way or another… I read all the feedback people offer me.

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

Marie, possessing a cheerful if extremely firm glint in her eye, finally relinquished Spirit's arm with what might have been meant as a gentle shove but which almost bowled the whole table over as the lean man collided with it. Sometimes Marie didn't know her own strength, which is part of what made Soul wary of the demon hammer. You didn't get called a Deathscythe because you asked extra nicely, you earned it by being stronger than just about everyone. Having never seen Marie in action, the added mystery made her more menacing. Anyone who could stomach Stein for long periods of time had to have reserves of mental fortitude.

"But she's right there, and it's her birthday Marie. How can you do this to her own Papa?" It was a whine for the ages.

"Just think of it like she's on a mission," Marie said to him kindly as she pulled at the collar of the starched white shirt that made up half of her 'waitress' outfit along with a long black skirt. Spirit was so mopey at being denied access to Maka he didn't even bother to leer at Marie who was more than filling out the top of her shirt. "Because she is."

"Just sit down and deal with it, old man." Soul had his back up against the booth seating, arms crossed, equally wishing he were on the other side of the restaurant with Maka instead of in what appeared to be 'time out' with Maka's self-proclaimed papa.

Spirit speared Soul with a look that was neither fond nor wistful as Marie left them both together with an airy comment about bringing them some water soon. In fact, the look that Spirit was giving Soul was verging on if not murderous then very maim-y in intent. While Soul wished he could say that Spirit's dislike of him was totally unfounded, little did the older scythe know that his malice was completely justified a few dozen times over. It would have been last night as well but Maka was too busy worrying about security details for today and so far from in the mood that he got a book thrown at him for trying.

Scooting into the booth, Spirit got right up next to Soul and gave him a solid elbow to the gut before the younger demon had time to react. "Move it, junior, the only view of Maka is right here." Past the edge of the faux leather booth and through the leaves of a plant you could just make out two heads of hair sitting in an empty dining room. The pale blond head was bobbing around, animated, while the shock of pink was bowed over a bread plate.

"I can't believe they trusted this Crona character to spend time with my Maka. That kid is clearly unstable." Spirit mumbled to himself, something Soul figured was a product of habit since he couldn't imagine being the target of friendly conversation here and now. "I have to keep my little girl safe."

"She'll be fine. Maka can take care of herself." Soul spoke up for her even though he'd had the exact same thoughts as Spirit. Logic wasn't very good at trumping emotion when it came to his master.

"Albarn women like to play it tough, but you don't understand yet that they have a blindness when it comes to their personal crusades." Spirit, in the few times they had spoken, liked to imply that Soul couldn't possibly understand Maka half so well as he did. It was galling, even if it was probably also true. Half a year with her couldn't compare to a lifetime, but it didn't mean he was going to let Spirit ride on that high horse for long.

Soul waited until he saw Marie coming with their waters to respond. "If Albarn women 're so stubborn about their decisions, then maybe you'll have better luck convincing her to start setting her sleeping wards again."

The killing intent was unmistakable now, but all Spirit could do was look daggers at him as Marie's smiling face interrupted what might have easily escalated to a brawl. The comment had been intentionally provocative, as Soul hoped her father could talk some sense into her even as he was pretty sure she wouldn't want to hear anything he had to say. At the same time Soul had reminded Spirit that he had wormed his way deep into her trust. Win-win.

"We rented the whole place out tonight so if you boys are hungry I can easily take your order, too."

"Surprise me." Spirit gritted out, hands balled into tight fists but otherwise trying to appear nonchalant.

"I'll have the same thing he's having." Soul said, hoping he was doing a better job of looking totally cool about sitting a foot away from a demon that wanted his blood.

"Okay…" Marie obviously sensed their tension but wasn't really sure what to do about it. "I'll tell the chef to surprise you, but remember if you're going to eat on the company dime you should clean your plates even if you don't like what you get." It was said with a smile, but there was that certain steel behind her words that implied they would eat if they liked it or not.

Behind the stupid fern Maka made some sort of exclamation and clasped one of Crona's hands. That's what it looked like she did anyway, and Spirit audibly ground his teeth. Soul could barely make anything out, but he sincerely wished she would be a little more guarded since the pink haired psycho was a living weapon. It was hard to stay vehement about that when Crona hadn't even harmed a fly since nearly eviscerating Soul. He wouldn't have believed the kid capable if he hadn't been there with Maka practically holding his intestines in.

"It was bad enough having _you_ live with her, now I have to worry about a half-breed too?" Spirit looked like he was torn between tears and anger but settled on depression in the end. "Why didn't I see her suicidal tendencies earlier?" He took a deep drink of his water, then grimaced as if he had expected it to be something a little stronger.

"I think if Maka wanted to die she wouldn't go about it so indirectly." Soul tried to remain casual, but he couldn't make out if she had let go of Crona's hand yet and the whispers in the back of his mind were getting insistent. Torn between wanting to take off on his bike to drown out the mental noise and wanting to stay here to make sure neither Crona nor Spirit pulled a stupid stunt on his master, Soul continued to be frozen in place.

"You're annoying, junior, but if I thought you were an actual risk to my daughter I would have cut your head off as soon as I met you. If it weren't for the powers that be saying they needed this kid for something I would have voted him to go under Stein's scalpel."

"That sounds almost like you trust me a little." Soul was surprised. Hell, he'd earned that respect by throwing himself in harm's way, but he figured her dad would sooner die than acknowledge that he'd paid his dues.

"Don't let it go to your head." Spirit tore his eyes away from the scene that was causing him more angst than anything and for once Soul felt a heaviness around the other man. Even on a bad day, he'd never seemed anything more than a silly person to Soul, but in this moment he'd believe that Spirit carried around a weight with him from Kami Albarn's soul fragment that he fought to keep hidden from others. "I never did say thank you for saving her."

Saving Maka had been like breathing—thoughtless, effortless—and there wasn't anything Soul had to say about it at this point. He'd do it again, too, but unless he figured out what was happening to his mind there was a chance he would become the villain Maka would need to be saved from.

* * *

Maka could feel her father's distinctive soul signature in the corner with Soul and she hoped they wouldn't make a scene. Crona was barely functioning with all the new things to absorb as it was, and any chaos would disrupt the careful balance. Marie had found some old suits in storage from when she and Azusa had shared a room. They were built for a slender woman, but Crona seemed to accept them without complaint or comment and they turned out to fit just fine. On the way over to the restaurant Maka noticed Crona kept itching at the pant legs, and figured after a lifetime in tatters that full coverage must feel really strange.

"You haven't met Black Star yet, for lots of reasons, but when you do I'm sure he's going to give us both grief for not going out to drink copious amounts of alcohol for my birthday." Maka watched as Crona poked at the glossy menu with a finger before picking it up and rotating it around. A flutter of a suspicion rose in her mind, but she was distracted as Spirit and Soul's energy signatures seemed to flare at one another briefly. Idiots. "Have you ever had alcohol before?"

"Maybe, I don't know…" Crona mumbled, and pulled at the shirt collar absently. Upon being given the shirt and jacket, Crona had made sure to button every button all the way to the top and the collar looked a little tight at the neck.

"It's vile stuff, and it makes you act like an idiot, but people like being in altered states. It helps them laugh or cry or forget…" Maka thought about the other hunters and their demon weapons, and all the terrible things they had had to do to protect regular people from supernatural horror. Maka certainly had some memories she couldn't revisit, securely locked in the vault of her mind. With a discreet cough she evened out her tone of voice. "I guess it has a pretty important function, too. Everything has a good side. It's all about balance."

Crona met her eyes, just a hint of curiosity there before they directed themselves back down to the menu and the frown tightened on Crona's face. Watching the youth more closely, Maka saw Crona's lips move while reading the menu and finally connected the dots.

"So, I've brought you dozens of books and we haven't been able to talk about any of them."

"Yeah…" Crona looked up guiltily with the hint of a nervous smile.

Best to come out and say it, beating around the bush never worked with Crona. "I don't know why it didn't occur to me before, I mean, it seems logical… but were you ever taught how to read?"

Crona went pale at first, then blushed two shades darker than their distinctive hair before stuttering, "Not exactly, I mean, here and there…"

Maka had seen a lot of barbaric conditions in the warehouse Crona had been housed in, but somehow denying anyone the ability to read felt like the least humane thing about it all. Her hand shot out to grab hold of Crona's, feeling how soft their palm was and how slender their fingers as she squeezed extra hard out of enthusiasm.

"If you have the basics then it's just a matter of practice, I'll make sure to check out some leveled readers from the library and we can start there. Reading is _freedom_ , Crona. Don't forget that. So long as you're free in your mind, they can't really capture you!" Maka spoke with religious conviction. Books were a gateway into knowledge, and she believed in their power as much as she believed in herself. If Crona's weakness was all in the mind, maybe this was how she could reach them.

Realizing Crona's hand had gone extremely sweaty, she let go and it seemed like Crona drew inward as if they could willfully shrink out of sight. Physical contact of any kind might still be unwelcome, and Maka needed to be sensitive to that. She didn't used to casually touch others, but Soul had been a bad influence in that arena. His personal bubble seemed to be unusually small when it came to her.

A smiling Marie was coming over to take their order and Crona was still sweating bullets. Once Marie was here they could both walk Crona through how to read the menu, the demon was more empathetic than most humans so she'd understand how to navigate the situation. Meanwhile Maka hoped the steady burn of Spirit and Soul in the corner didn't ignite. It would have been a lot easier if both of them has stayed in their respective homes like she had asked of them.

* * *

"I would have thought a weapon as old as you would have gotten used to resisting the summoning pull. Why did you even come to this plane?" Spirit had picked at his food, a plate of seafood linguini, practically never taking his eyes off Maka while pouring himself glass after glass of wine. Soul thought the man would have benefitted from a little more food and a little less wine.

"I know it's probably been years, and years, and years…"

"Careful…"

"Since you've been to the Infernal plane, so you probably don't remember how fuckin' boring that place gets." Soul was quite enjoying his linguini, particularly the seafood part. "No TV, no phones, no cars… and endless politics."

Spirit actually looked away from his precious daughter long enough to give Soul a moment of consideration. "Most weapons are summoned when they're fairly young. Unless you visit with the other side occasionally, like Naigus, it's hard to remember anything else exists other than this world. I can barely remember my old home..."

"As someone who spent nearly twice as long in that shithole as any other demon here, I can tell you that you all sure romanticize what it's like to be an adult 'back home'. It's mostly just trying to stay under the radar of the bigger guys so you don't get the shit kicked out of you for fun. Or waiting for the veil to thin so you have a shot at your next meal." Soul looked over to where he could see part of Maka's hair. It was down tonight, reminding him of how fine it was when he got to run his fingers through the stuff. It should be him at that table across from her…

"So you allowed yourself to be summoned because you were _bored_?"

A couple months before Soul had felt the pull of a summoning spell casting a hook for a demon weapon, his brother Wes had come back from hunting to shove a brightly lit piece of plastic in Soul's hands.

" _Here, brother, you like human trinkets and this one is particularly fun." Wes took pride in regaling Soul with gifts to lighten his dark moods. Soul hadn't even been energetic enough to hunt out a meal last time a portal opened to the other side. "It's a new type of phone, with no wires. Totally different than the one we display in the main hall."_

 _The rectangle had a button on it that caused it to light up once Soul touched it._

" _Hit 1-2-2-4." Wes supplied, allowing himself a look of fondness at the only sibling he had._

It was wondrous once Soul got past the combination, providing him hours of amusement with games and music. He read through past calendar entries and notes in the person's contact list about friends, enemies, agents, and numbers of clubs and how much he'd been paid at each. Whatever instrument this person had played, they were clearly on their way up in the world (or had been). Wes never went for truly innocent people, though, and from some of the slightly creepy pictures of unconscious and half-dressed women Soul had a good idea of this man's particular vice.

When the phone stopped turning on and Soul couldn't listen to the music or play the games any longer, all he could think about was getting to the mortal realm. Without being summoned or bound there, he wouldn't be able to stay long, but it always felt like the humans had more going for them than anything the demons had and that phone had been the proof of his suspicions. Demonic culture was nothing but rules, and every last one of them were no better than scavengers and murderers. He had always figured the grass was always greener before, but that phone had tipped the balance.

Soul shrugged at Spirit. _Bored_ was close enough to the truth. It would be seriously dumb to say he'd allowed himself to be captured because of a cell phone. "Yeah, I guess. Too bad it turned out to be a witch on the other end." He picked the meat out of a clam with his fork and chewed on it thoughtfully. "Being stuck in a witch's basement was a hundred times more boring than home, so I was really stoked when Maka showed up." It hadn't just been boring, it had been scary and demoralizing.

"My Maka is pretty amazing." Spirit agreed, looking through the plant fondly.

"I'll say." Soul responded with a toothy grin. He let enough innuendo ride in his tone to raise the other man's hackles.

"Shut up." Spirit said, but without much malice.

* * *

Maka waved the secured van off as an exhausted Crona gave the slightest of smiles in the window and raised up a hand in response. Marie drove like an old woman and was completely reliant on the GPS in the car so Maka had more than enough time to get tired of waving before they pulled around a corner. Rotating her shoulder slowly, Maka suddenly realized how tense she had been the whole evening. Crona had done great, warming up enough during the meal to offer a few tidbits of information that tomorrow could very well turn into leads if she could match the descriptions of the witches Crona had described to ones they had on file. The only tense moment was when Crona had mentioned 'mother' and clammed up through most of dessert. Not an auspicious end, but the smile from the car was at least hopeful.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a familiar smirk, not that she hadn't known he was there. Soul had all but scraped his nails down their connection with all the flaring of temper between him and her papa. Why they had both stuck it out the whole night at the same table was a mystery to her. Must be some macho male thing. Black Star would have understood.

"Need a ride?" With his tousled hair practically lighting up the dark winter night and those sharp teeth of his gleaming, Maka knew there was nothing she wanted more than to plaster her body onto his. Maybe thoughts like those were better kept under wraps until they got home, since not all the Shibusen agents had vacated the place and sending lustful glances at her weapon was pretty high risk.

"Not on your life. You're not done with those courses yet." She walked up next to him, keeping a careful arm length of distance. No one would know how her fingers twitched towards him unless they could read her mind.

"For Death's sake, Maka! One week! Your dad warned me Albarn women were stubborn…" He was saying it to get her goat, and it was working. Even as he finished his sentence Soul ducked to avoid the smack that almost landed on the back of his head.

Maka sighed, then laughed. Soul was already helping her unwind, and she was grateful he had stayed around to try to see her home. "Go on, I'll be there soon. I should write up my debrief of the evening anyway, while it's all fresh, then I'll take a cab home. What a great birthday!"

"Only you would think this was a good birthday, you freak. I'll be waiting, so don't take too long with those reports." There was something in his tone that told Maka he had more interesting things on his mind than a night on the couch in front of the TV. He fired up his motorcycle's engine and those glowing eyes of his ate her up.

Oddly enough, as her earlier tension eased out of her under Soul's gaze, she felt like if she had to rank her birthdays this would make top three: not as good as ice cream with her parents, but edging out that time she had to parachute drop into a barn and fight her way past reanimated horse skeletons to get to the cursed item she had been sent to deactivate.

Really, Maka thought with a snort, what dumb witch thought undead barnyard animals would make good guards?


	13. Chapter 12

Two chapters til the end. I have ideas, we'll see how they realize themselves. Thanks so much for reading! Soon I think I'll go back to shorter SoMa tales, I just need to make sure I complete things I start before I go off on too many tangents.

Disclaimer: See part 1

* * *

"So when I was in the grocery store I swear every single egg in the whole place was gone. I spent what felt like twenty minutes arguing with three different people explaining to them that there was no way a store could be out of eggs but they were convinced that…" Maka cut off her words, having struggled through the front door to the kitchen, and deposited arms full of brown paper bags filled with groceries on the counter. In the unnatural silence she turned to see what looked a terrible lot like two Souls sitting on the couch. For a moment she wondered if she had been taken by madness over something so simple as a lack of eggs.

She immediately sensed the first major difference, because her Soul wasn't the sort of person that would wear a suit and tie without a bit of struggle. Also, her Soul never had what could only be described as a bright and considering twinkle in his glowing red eyes.

The Soul not in a suit, who looked like he was about to pop a vein in his forehead, modulated his voice so Maka could clearly hear him from across the apartment. "Don't you ever check your damn phone? I said go visit Tsubaki or something." The current of apathetic irritation spoke volumes.

"I knew you were blowing up my phone, but I assumed it was because of the eighty times you told me this week to buy paper towels and tissue and I didn't want to hear it another ten times before I even got home." This was not on her. It wasn't like they could resonate a mile away, so she couldn't guess at what he was thinking. The fact was, that even though he was practically totally recovered they hadn't resonated at all since the accident. He kept saying he just needed another day or two to get to 100%, but Maka was starting to think there was something fishy about his reluctance. The appearance of Soul 2.0 might or might not be related.

"Maka Albarn, I take it? Lovely to meet you. I'm Soul's brother, Wes and I'm incredibly pleased to make your acquaintance." The man she had thought was a carbon copy of Soul, but in a suit, stood up from the couch and began to approach her. As he got closer Maka began to notice all the details that made him unlike her weapon: a hollowness to his cheeks for one, his eyes didn't glow half as bright as his brother's, and now that he had stood he was clearly taller than Soul as well. Then again, Soul was a notorious sloucher so the height difference might be perception more than reality.

Soul, faster than Maka had ever seen him move before, inserted himself between Maka and his brother's outstretched hand with both arms transformed into wicked looking blades for emphasis. Rather than take offense, Wes laughed at his little brother and ruffled his wild hair.

"Don't worry, little brother, you made it very clear Maka doesn't have an ounce of musicality in her soul. She isn't a target for my machinations, no matter how much you think I'm here to ruin your life." Wes tried to catch Maka's eyes even as Soul kept dodging his head around to prevent it. "Miss Albarn, I assure you I'm here to check on my brother. You believe me right?"

"Stop playing innocent." Soul was smoldering, his arms still bladed and his emotions practically slapping at their connection. Maka was sure something was going to get inadvertently destroyed at this rate unless Soul blew off some steam. She wondered if she had ever seen him this worked up outside of a battle, and drew a blank.

Maka calmly approached Soul's back and placed a hand on the dull side of his scythe arm, startling him into dropping the transformation. "Wes, nice to meet you, but I have to side with Soul on this one. How did you find him? It must have taken you some time and effort, and it isn't exactly information free to the public…"

The combination of her caution and her physical presence eased Soul immediately, and she could see the way Wes' eyes took in the change in his brother's demeanor. There was something a little too much like knowing triumph in those red eyes, and she didn't like the air of superiority he was projecting. Pride was a sin for a reason.

"Miss Albarn, do you have any siblings?" Wes watched as Soul stuffed normal looking hands into his sweatshirt pockets, only moving back to the living room when Maka did. "There's not a lot of things beings in any plane prize more than family."

Soul snorted at that, loudly, but didn't argue.

"Last time I was visiting your plane I was curious about how my brother was faring in his new life. If he's told you anything about me, you probably know I can be fairly persuasive…" He gestured towards the door with a nod and Maka made out the violin case near the coat rack. "Family trait, if you'd believe."

Knowing how painful Soul found his lack of familial power as a muse, Maka said nothing.

"Everything is on computers these days, and there's not a whole lot of people who match my brother's description with the name Soul. Talk to a few helpful government workers with an appreciation for fine music and voila, I had an address!"

"And what happened to those poor bastards, Wes?" Soul ground out, standing next to Maka in the living room.

Wes sighed as if all the emotion of the day was tiring him out. "You always believe the worst, but they're fine. You know I don't eat indiscriminately. There's plenty of aspiring artists in the world, feeding on bureaucrats would be a clear step down in quality."

While Soul's brother's slick otherworldly persona made Maka's skin twitch, she had to admire Wes' persistence to find Soul. There weren't many agencies that were allowed to keep demographic data on Shibusen employees, just enough to allow them to navigate rental agreements and maintain a credit score. Wes must really have wanted to find his brother if he was using his prime feeding time to instead make inquiries in places that could equally put suspicion on him. As always, motive was still suspect.

"Mother and Father were understandably put out when you disappeared."

"You mean relieved." Soul, his initial anger spent, seemed to fall into a surly attitude that Maka hadn't seen for a while. It reminded her of times she had visited her Papa as a teen shortly after her emancipation. Spirit had always been so childish about her supposed abandonment, but it had still been warmer than her Mama's stony acceptance.

"They are far too covetous to feel nothing… but surely you know that I missed you, little brother." He seemed sincere, but Maka knew demons were a tricky bunch.

Soul seemed unable to land on how he felt about seeing his brother, his eyes flicking from Wes to Maka and back. "It was time to move on. I waited too long to answer a call, at any rate. Now I have to take classes with kids and put up with _her_ nagging."

"Nagging?!" Maka was content to let the brothers resolve their issues, but she didn't appreciate Soul taking out his displeasure on her. "Next time you don't wake up for class maybe I'll let you deal with the truant punishment. I hear Stein gives you the option of cleaning up after his experiments or participating in one…"

"No one asked you to wake me up, I can handle Stein." Soul was probably bluffing, but Maka swore he was on his own next time he decided to laze around in bed.

Maka shifted her weight into an aggressive stance and began to poke Soul in the shoulder. There was only Wes' presence that kept her from breaking out more personal ammo to wound him with, like how he was lucky she put up with his snoring lately and how he either needed to wash his sleeping clothes more often or start going naked because he was always waking up greasy next to her. And everything was complicated by the fact that more often than not when they squabbled like this they ended up making up by heading back to the bedroom to duke it out more intimately. So, unsure what to do, she made a frustrated noise and continued to bruise his shoulder with her index finger.

"I see, now." Wes broke the cycle of their squabbling by reminding them that he was in the room. "My brother is lucky to have a master who cares about him so much. No wonder he lo—"

"Isn't it about time for you to head home, Wes? Even you can't sustain the energy drain of visiting…" Soul's voice broke as his interruption came out much too loud and an octave higher than his normal vocal range. Maka was equally mortified and wondered at how careless she had become in her own home. It was not a point of pride to be a master that _cared_ about anything other than their effectiveness on a battlefield.

Wes' smile was flawlessly sincere, and she wondered how long he had to practice it to make it look natural. Even in a suit the demon managed to seem down to earth, and that was a real feat. "I don't need to head back through the portal for another day, but I can see there probably isn't any room for me here…"

He was fishing for an invitation and every nonverbal cue in Soul's arsenal was screaming at Maka to _say nothing_.

"Yeah, it's probably not too comfortable here," The relieved smile that was spreading across Soul's face at Maka's words halted abruptly as she continued. "But I'm sure my Papa can host you for the night if you wanted to visit more with Soul tomorrow. I mean, I've never even heard of a family visit ever happening from the Infernal realm. It's pretty unprecedented…"

Both of the brothers had the grace to look a little bit uncomfortable at her comment, and she wondered what she'd said to inspire it. There must have been a reason family didn't visit the mortal realm.

"Remember Wes, no feeding or we'll have to come after you like any other monster." Soul sounded tired, like he wished he could fast forward to when he was giving his brother a boot out the door.

* * *

"He's like a celebrity." Maka stood with Soul and Crona in the corner of the Shibusen lobby while students, staff, and demons crowded around Wes. This was his silly master's idea, since the safest place Wes could be would be surrounded by witch hunters rather than potential prey.

"Most of them have never seen a real Muse before. They'll be asking him to play something soon." Soul remembered the parlor tricks Wes would have to perform for their parents' friends. They would trap some person from the mortal realm and use them as a training dummy for Wes to practice his musical suggestion and charm on. Like a hypnotist, Wes would make his subjects pretend to be a barnyard animal, or perform acrobatic feats, whatever would please the guests best. Knowing how it inevitably had to end for the human, Soul usually slipped out unnoticed before the bloody grand finale. Wes may have hated the performances as much as Soul did, but it never stopped him from completing them. This was one of the many reasons Soul had never been the favored son.

Maka was standing so close to Crona, their hands were practically touching. Childishly, Soul wanted to worm his way in between them and push Crona back a few feet. The reading lessons had been going well, and the slow socialization project had assured that so long as Maka was present Crona could wander the complex with her. Enduring Crona's presence made Soul's skin crawl with the desire to sharpen his limbs and lash out. Last time he had had to spend a lot of time around the pink haired mannequin, he had bit through his lip while trying not to say something spiteful. He had touched a thumb to the cut and come away with a streak of red and black, then hurried home over some pretense. Soul was pretty proud that Maka hadn't yet noticed his disdain.

The dreams were getting bloodier, more vivid. Last night he had been slowly beheading Jackie who right now was standing next to Kim who was in turn hanging off of Wes' arm with big eyes and pointing at the violin case. Jackie's screams had been so satisfying…

"Soul, hey, I said is it safe for him to play music? Hello?" Maka's touch jarred him out of his daydream and he could feel spikes just under his skin that had been about ready to pop.

"Yeah, he knows better than to aggravate an entire group of witch hunters and demons. He's talented, but you all are trained to kill first and ask questions later. Plus if you look over there…" Soul pointed at Stein hanging out near a corridor that led deeper into the classroom portion. "He's clearly got earplugs in. I wouldn't be surprised if Spirit warned everyone important ahead of time to be ready in case."

Soul wished Maka would never let go of his arm. It felt like the whispering in his head, and the increasingly graphic daydreams faded when they were touching. Holding her hand would be satisfying on a lot of levels, even as he fully acknowledged how dumb and sappy that thought was. Someday he was going to mess up, and the casual affection she was only just starting to accept at home was going to bleed into their job. Spirit would be the first one to volunteer to put Soul's head on a stake.

The sound of the violin broke Soul's train of thought. He knew that tune well. _Fire on the Mountain_ , something played for sheer speed and because Wes always thought that the reference to it in the _Devil Went Down to Georgia_ was hilarious. People were laughing and clapping, but all Soul could think of was how even mopping could never erase the red stains from the stone floors back home.

"I would have thought he would be all about classical pieces or something," Maka was unimpressed, something that actually cheered Soul out of his gloomy thoughts. "Or something interesting and modern like the stuff you listen to…"

"So many people, I can't… I mean I don't…" Crona looked visibly shaken next to Maka, and she immediately focused in on the youth as soon as they showed signs of distress. At what point Crona had gone from mission to friend, Soul was unsure, but Maka wasn't about to stop spending time with Crona just because Kid had determined they had gotten all the useful information they could out of them. Her faith in others was one of the many reasons he respected her, because it was strength of character he didn't share.

"Remember what we talked about earlier?" She didn't say it with a hint of condescension, even though everyone else treated Crona like a harmless child. To Maka, Crona was more like a bird with a broken wing, if said bird was also about two kind words away from going feral and ripping out your liver.

Crona's pale eyes swept the room, briefly scanned Soul, then found Maka intently waiting for an answer at the end of the journey. "Growth through discomfort?"

"When we feel the most like quitting, that's when it's all important that we stick around. We're in this together." Maka held out her fist, which Crona bumped so gently they might not have even made contact.

Unlike Crona, Soul wasn't so interested in personal growth as he was in getting the hell away from a room full of people that were shortly about to ask him all sorts of stupid questions about his brother. As Soul began to melt backwards towards the exit, he felt Maka grab ahold of his arm. She must have been practicing with those grip strengtheners that Black Star had foisted on her a couple months ago because it was like a steel band. Their glances only had to meet once and she let him go immediately. One of the things he loved most about his master was how, at the times it was most important, he didn't have to say anything to be understood.

Maybe he'd have dinner ready for her tonight when she got home.

Unlikely.

* * *

"What? Your fans finally get enough?" Soul was grateful Maka was still out when Wes dropped by the apartment. He knew it had to be his brother because Black Star was on a mission, and even if he wasn't Black Star rarely knocked so much as announced his presence until Soul came to open the door. They started leaving the window unlocked when, not believing they weren't home, Black Star made a grand entrance through said window and left glass all over the floor. Tsubaki had paid for repairs, while Black Star merely pointed out if they hadn't locked the window accidents of this nature wouldn't happen to them. Tsubaki had quietly thanked them for their consideration.

"We used to be friends, Soul. It's been less than a year, you can't have changed that much, brother." Without other people around to observe their interaction, Wes looked much more tired and much less amiable. Soul had never been good at pretending for others, or maybe he hadn't cared enough to try. "Take a walk with me. I promise I'll cross back over directly after."

Soul tightly nodded and grabbed his leather jacket off the rack by the door. Once they were outside together, Wes shivering slightly in his wool winter suit, Soul wished he had easy answers for why things had changed between them. It wasn't their bloodthirsty and overbearing parents, their disappointment in their younger son had been easy for Soul to understand and that hurt had long since scabbed over. Wes' talent and success wasn't something Soul envied anymore, now that he had found his way into a job and a life that suited him. Truthfully, this change had started a while before he was summoned, when he had been reading lyrics slipped into the fraying cardboard sleeves that held the family record collection.

"Remember when you came home with that stack of records a while back?"

"Yeah, you spent a heck of a long time trying to get them to work on that old gramophone in the music room…" Wes laughed, drawing his arms around his body to hold in the heat. "You almost broke it, if I recall."

"You finally brought me back the sheet music for that one song, do you remember?"

Wes hummed under his breath, always better at naming a tune before he could get a title or artist locked down. "Ah, there it is… Albert King, yes?"

Soul confirmed with a tight nod. " _Born Under a Bad Sign_."

"You were married to that piano for weeks after that. Not just that song, though. I thought maybe you had finally tapped into something, some power. You barely even ate." Wes glanced at the still water of the fountain that was in the city park they were strolling through. Spring wasn't that far off, even if the weather hadn't seemed to figure that out yet. Bare branches, stiff winds, and bleak landscapes were so much like home that Soul felt they could have been on their family's land wandering around and talking about music like when they were younger.

They walked in circles silently while Soul wondered how life might have been if they were both human. If their livelihood hadn't necessitated murder would he have liked his parents better? At what point had he started to think of humans as more than an energy source? All he knew was, reading those lyrics all those months ago he felt like Albert King had spoken to him deeply, and it was hard to slurp down a random soul if you suddenly wondered if it bled and suffered like you did.

"I was in a dark place."

"You still are from what I can see. When are you going to tell your master about your infection?" Wes was used to Soul's periods of silence and picked up the conversation right away. He was almost surprised Wes had noticed the black blood, but then he was powerful in his own right and muses had unusual sensitivities.

"When I know what to do about it." Soul wasn't going to hear Wes lecture him about what he needed to do with his life, when Wes himself was still walking the old patterns their parents had set for them without question. "You don't need to worry about me."

Wes snorted, then bit open his finger to begin making the blood runes that would open up the portal back home. "I'm your big brother, I don't think I'll ever stop worrying about you."

Soul knew he should have been insulted that his brother was trying to baby him, but deep down a spark of gratitude kept him warm.


	14. Chapter 13

Death in the family puts things into perspective. I'm glad I'm close to the end of this because my energy for about anything is pretty low. I don't have a big family and that makes three people in two years. I know it's making my writing erratic.

One more chapter and I'll call this project good. I wasn't really trying to do anything other than get both Maka and Soul to a place where they were connected so strongly it reflected some of that bond I loved in the anime and manga. As usual, Maka is the one that stubbornly would rather take on the world by herself.

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

"He's going _easy_ on us. This is _embarrassing_." Maka hissed under her breath, lungs heaving. "We need to resonate."

 _I don't think that's a great idea._ Soul replied. _Besides this is just for practice, why take it so seriously?_ There was a quiver in his voice she purposefully ignored.

"I assume you're taking so long flapping your lips to drop a little prayer my way," Black Star swung the blade at the end of Tsubaki's chain lazily. "And don't you worry, as the resident god around here I hear you loud and clear."

In the training hall there were other people, but most of them were chatting with one another and waiting their turn for a sparring area or practicing moves against dummies. Normally Maka would go for a private room, as had been her normal practice, but Black Star had been running his mouth about her going soft since her extended "vacation" and her pride couldn't stand it.

"You're not injured anymore, Soul. We have to be able to do this outside of life and death situations and I don't know why you're—" Maka was cut off effectively as Black Star got sick of waiting and put her on the defensive. He was going to continue to use Tsubaki in her chain form for the reach knowing it would give Maka a harder time. There was only a small opening for Maka between Tsubaki's chains and Black Star's impressive grappling power, and she needed Soul to toss away whatever apprehension he apparently had about resonating and give them that edge.

Black Star dodged a clumsy swing as Maka continued to hound Soul with mumbled orders. "Jeez Maka, you're disappointing me today. I feel like if I pushed you any harder you'd start crying on me or something."

Never having been good at shit talking during a fight—she always thought of what she wanted to say long after it was over—Maka seethed in her own mind and imagined filling all of Black Star's shoes with chunky peanut butter. Growing up together made it hard to wish him permanent bodily harm, but she sure as hell wished him constant discomfort.

" _NOW_ Soul." There was no answer in her mind, just a sense of impending doom from her demon weapon. He seemed to grow hot and heavy in her hands for an instant, but it was just long enough for Black Star to score a hit he hadn't expected to land, raking her across the shoulder with the tip of Tsubaki's blade before his elbow hit her solidly in the solar plexus and knocked her back several feet.

Starbursts of pain spiraled through Maka's body, but it was answered by ricocheting panic from Soul. He was trying to form words, she could hear them in the back of her mind, but nothing was making sense. It was almost like he was drowning, sputtering words at her frantically. The resonation was initiating, and Maka embraced it fully without question. She wanted to win so badly, she didn't care at what cost.

Then all at once their connection blew open and Maka felt like she was falling backwards through the mat, sinking like it had only been surface tension keeping her grounded all this time. All she got was one blink before Black Star's curious face faded to nothing.

In the world everyone else occupied, all the practicing Shibusen students saw Black Star hit Maka, the girl falling down, and then Maka not move even a single muscle to get up again. Blood from her shoulder oozed from the cut as the room held their collective breath. Normally when a master went down unconscious, the weapon would transform back and help them up at the very least. Black Star wandered over until he stood over Maka and scratched at his head, waiting for her to stop playing possum.

 _Stop poking her with your foot and go get a medic_. Tsubaki finally advised him.

"Kid's gonna be pissed at me if I broke her."

 _I don't think it was anything you did…_ Tsubaki reassured him cryptically before transforming back.

* * *

All this Alice in Wonderland bullcrap could had come at a more convenient time than when she was sparring with Black Star, Maka thought. He would never let her hear the end of it—that is if the battle was even over. Who knew how much time it would take to wander this wasteland. Had it been seconds since she ended up here? Hours?

Gothic stone structures were everywhere with doors that didn't seem to want to open, and cobbles lined the ground. Maka wondered if this was Soul's memory of home. She had to assume she was in Soul's mind because her own wasn't this imaginative. When Maka dreamed it was usually of mundane things: tests she wasn't prepared for from a decade ago, fights she was on the brink of losing, or any number of childhood memories featuring her mama and papa in various states of happiness or anger.

There were no gothic cityscapes in Maka's memories, let alone skies that looked like they were in a permanent state of sunset. Rumbling thunder in the distance told her she'd need to find somewhere to sit the weather out soon. There was no way this gauzy black dress she was in would provide her any sort of protection from stormy weather. She wished Soul's mind had at least armed her with something other than a pair of ridiculous heels. In a pinch they could be used to stab or puncture something, but until then she'd keep an eye out for either a shoe store or a better weapon. There were signs in a language she couldn't read all over the place, and her ignorance made her angrier rather than scared. Maka didn't like not knowing things. When she sorted this out maybe Soul could start teaching her some of his language. Some of the times he swore in it, it did sound remarkably evil.

The ominous stone mansion looming large in the distance must be her destination, Maka figured. As she got closer she thought she could pick out strands of music so that clenched it. Soul was somewhere in this dreamscape and she was going to find him, yell at him, and then make him spit her back out into her own body so they could get about the business of beating Black Star's smug smile off his face.

Wind picked up and Maka reminded herself that this wasn't her actual body feeling cold, but just a mental construct of a memory of cold attached to the association with wind. Goosebumps were the result all the same. Soul's inner world was more than foreign, it was bleak and alien, and Maka wondered to what purpose her journey through his inner landscape was leading.

The torrential downpour hit before she even reached the front door and Maka was soaked to the skin faster than you could snap your fingers. Until the rain had hit she had mostly forgotten about how cold wind and rain should be, or how dark and hard to see it had become, but once her mind was reminded that that was how things _should_ be then she found this world answered her expectations. Lights in the windows told her someone was inside, but it would be up to her to get herself up there. The large ornate door with scenes carved into it of what looked to be human sacrifice was about as welcoming as she figured the entrance of a demon family's home would be. Maybe it was like the demon version of a welcome mat, giving them those warm fuzzy feelings that those cross-stitched 'home sweet home' frames were supposed to for humans.

"I'm going to punch you so hard for all this later, Soul…" Maka warmed herself with anger. "But I have to give you some credit for being so normal considering what you came from." If this is what being the black sheep of his family meant, she was eternally grateful he was weird.

It took some effort, her heels slipping on the marble floor, to get the large door closed again. By the time Maka has muscled it closed against the storm, her eyes had adjusted to the dim interior light. Candles and gas lamps really didn't do a whole lot, even if the huge chandelier above her was really magnificent. How much damage could it do if something like that dropped on a witch? It looked like it could take down a whole coven if they all held hands in a circle. Too bad no one ever conveniently placed themselves under such things in real life.

There were tapestries of more of the same nonsense that the door had pictured: pale haired, red-eyed men and women with gaping jaws devouring humans in various stages of dismemberment. It had started out literal, devouring people, until some clever demon figured out the only part they really needed was the soul. Later tapestries, newer looking with more vivid colors, pictured dismembered people and demons swallowing bright soul orbs. Did Soul think of her as food? Was sex with her like making love to a chicken he chose not to slaughter? Idle thoughts, but she dripped ire to match the water streaming from her hair and clothes. It made her forget the foreboding feeling that she had entered a human abattoir.

"Makes that childhood home I hated look pretty nice right now." Maka scoped out the mishmash of styles and items in the entryway a bit more before she started to make her way up the grand staircase the broke the center of the room into a right or left choice. Music seemed to flow from the right so she followed her ears and stuck to the carpet runners that flowed down the center of the hallway. At least the clacking of her heels would be muffled for a while. An open door led to a music room and it was so inviting it practically _screamed_ trap to her senses.

The music was gut wrenching coming from the piano, sad and powerful, even if Maka couldn't have told anyone why. It was something made to be felt rather than listened to, and as usual she felt underequipped to share this memory with Soul in any form. It couldn't be called beautiful or ugly, it was too raw to be either of those things and it made her ache. She had only taken two long steps into the room, her eyes on the piano and the figure whose fingers were flying over the keys while sweat dripped down his face, when the door slammed behind her. Curtains next to the open window fluttered as the storm filled the room with the smell of rain and sulfur, but that was a passing note as Maka locked onto the figure whose red nails were dragging across the wood of the closed door.

"You're just in time. He can't keep this up much longer."

Maka stared daggers at the woman who crept out of the shadows with a huge lipstick grin splitting her face. It looked like her, but a version of her that was every thing she had wished for herself at twelve: huge tits, tiny waist, curvaceous everywhere else, and perfectly full and luscious hair. The hair was the kick in the teeth, really. Every other physical thing she had let go of long ago, with a grim acceptance that her svelte frame was far more efficient for her job, but the dream of a full head of bouncy hair—like in shampoo commercials—she still coveted.

She tried to be flattered, as if this was how he thought of her, but there was something sinister and _other_ about her twin. Maka wasn't sure Soul had thought this woman up, or if this woman had thought herself up.

"I think you'll find him quite stubborn." Maka wrung out some of her hair on the checkerboard floor, pretending at nonchalance. Her eyes didn't stray from the other version of her that circled Soul and the piano like a trampy shark.

"I was counting on it. The harder he fights the more satisfying it will be when it's my turn…"

Maka had a distinct feeling the woman was not talking about playing a little ditty on the piano. Soul was struggling, blood from his nails leaving black trails across the keys, but he continued to play as if he had no idea the two women were in the room with him.

"You're thinking about doing something stupid, and I'm going to tell you now, you needn't bother. He's already gone." Sweeping an arm out, Maka's double gave a breathy laugh. "This is a shadow, an echo of what's left. You might as well leave and save yourself the pain."

"In my experience villains lie, so you might as well brace yourself for that 'something stupid'." Maka only spoke to buy herself more time. There was nothing to fight with in this room. The wet fabric of her dress shifted as she flexed her muscles, so Maka pulled the sleeves off with firm tugs. The tube of fabric that constricted her legs she quickly ripped long jagged tears in so her legs could move more naturally.

The other Maka observed her little show with amusement, tapping a long crimson nail against her smirking lips. "You really think you're going to fight me?"

"And win." Maka spoke without hesitation. "And if I don't win, you can have us both."

"Oh sweetie," The ghoulish woman seemed gleeful, hungry. "I already get you both, it's just a matter of time, now."

It seemed like her double was taking a breath to say more, but Maka had had enough words and charged like a bull. The initial goal was to surprise her and get her away from Soul's vulnerable back. The sounds of the piano were a counterpoint to their altercation, and as long as he was playing Maka knew he was still fighting in his own way.

Straddling that slim waist which she was sure had been designed to taunt her specifically for being as curvy as a piece of lumber, Maka got in two solid punches to the woman's face before a feral howl slid past her double's lips. Those sharp nails punctured her upper arms as they began to grapple. They were rolling about on the floor, trying to get a dominant position on the other, but what Maka lacked in strength against the apparition she made up for in sheer determination so neither one was scoring much more than a random punch or scratch. Maka would lose if her energy continued to be sapped from a test of strength like this.

"Once I have him, I'll make him disembowel you slowly, then allow him enough presence of mind to know exactly what he's done before I chain him down again!"

Maka didn't respond, talking was a waste of energy when locked in a fight with an opponent. Snappy comebacks were Soul's area of expertise, anyway. Right now all Maka was focused on was killing this doppelganger, and everything else was some hazy future plan. Soul always said she was too hasty, rushing into things and figuring next steps out as she got there. Maka would have given anything to have his voice in her mind, right then, both admonishing and encouraging her.

"I'll make sure every drop of your blood he spills gets him off!"

Words, more words, Maka barely heard the snarls of her opponent. Fighting was about heart, but it was about calculation as well, and even though Maka was below her opponent she saw the opening she'd been hoping for and pushed her twin's arm down in between them while bringing her linked ankles up high behind the woman's head. Nails scored hits down her thighs, her sides, her face, but Maka concentrated on locking her triangle in place.

"If you wanted my face in your crotch you only needed to ask, honey," It was meant to taunt her but the words came out strangled. Maka watched with grim satisfaction as her opponent struggled as the blood was cut off to her brain. Nails like hypodermic needles stabbed her over and over. Maka told herself the pain, the blood, the exhaustion was all in her mind. This was about her own survival, her partnership, Soul's soul… and dug deep to pull the leg against the other woman's neck more tightly even as her fingers slipped on her own blood.

What was probably more witty repartee was gurgling through the woman's lips, but it was unintelligible. Meanwhile Maka's own attention was riveted to Soul, who was physically sagging against the piano, tapping out a faint denouement to his piece. Black eyes nearly popping out of a red face, the woman sagged unconscious at last into dead weight on top of Maka's battered body. Letting the hold go, she pushed the limp body off enough to drag herself out from under it the rest of the way.

 _Finish what you start, otherwise why did you even bother_ … Kami's words echoed in her mind as Maka drug her weary body to straddle the back of her opponent. _Never show mercy for an opponent; a witch will show you none_. A human head was heavy, doubly so when you were in a state of exhaustion. _We're death's servants, that means we don't have the luxury of deciding who lives._ The sharp twist that broke the woman's neck was anticlimactic, but the sudden jerking movement only reminded Maka of how it felt like every one of her organs had been punctured by stabbing needles. Adrenaline couldn't stop the pain any longer. If this had been her body and not her spirit, she would have already have succumbed to her injuries.

Soul had seen her in some terrible situations, and would probably see her in a lot more if they came out of this with their sanity, but she dearly hoped he wouldn't remember her like this: stretched to the limit, and staring at her own dead face dispassionately. Maka wondered if it was her angel's soul that in the end made her less human, or if it was the years of conditioning to fight and kill.

The music stopped.

It was like coming out of trance and Maka stumbled over to the piano bench. She had won so he had to be safe, right? Courage and self-sacrifice was fueled by conviction, and Maka's was slumped over with black blood dripping from his fingertip onto the tile floor.

"Soul!" She slid onto the bench next to him, needing the support of the bench almost as much as he did.

As soon as their hands touched Maka felt their souls meld into one another in resonance. He felt so cold to the touch that it burned, but he was the one that howled and writhed as if she were made of fire. Blood made their grips slippery, but Maka moved in to link an arm around his waist while not letting go of that one hand that cemented their connection. Cool breezes from the window chilled her once more.

Finally, when his struggles had subsided to mere twitches, Maka let them slide off and sink to the ground next to the piano bench. Every bit of her body felt like a bruise, and what wasn't bruised was oozing red and black blood from jagged scratches, but she felt a relief so profound it was impossible to be unhappy.

"Maka," Soul's gravelly voice sent a thrill through her. This was the man she would fight for, kill for, and he wasn't lost to her like the dark vision had claimed. "Why the fuck are you here? You don't belong in this hell hole."

Ever the charmer.

"Shut up and let me enjoy this." Maka said, feeling herself choke up a little as they clung to one another. The room was getting fuzzy, and she was hoping it was because her time here was up and not because tears were threatening to fall.

* * *

"Hey. Your childhood home sucks worse than the house my mom rented in the suburbs that one year… Kids in normal schools apparently don't fight to settle pecking order issues. I remember thinking expulsion meant I was going to be sent into the desert to die." Maka picked at the hospital gown she had changed into so that her heavy day clothes wouldn't impede a good night's sleep.

Soul almost cracked a smile at that one, his eyes seemingly tracking the cracks on the ceiling tiles rather than meet Maka's.

"Is that what home really looks like?"

"Pretty much." Soul rolled onto his side in his hospital cot, away from her as she tried to catch his eye from her own hospital cot in the Shibusen infirmary. Nygus had made a small fuss over them once they had regained consciousness, but for now they had been left to rest. Interrogation and blood test results would have to wait until the next day. There were a dozen pink roses and a weird looking bear on the table next to Maka's cot and she was too afraid the roses were from either her papa or Hiro to even look at the gifts.

"When did it start getting bad?"

"Can we not talk about this now?" Soul laid on his back again and flopped an arm over his eyes.

Maka sat up in the bed, wishing she could pinch him or knock some sense into him. "You never want to talk anyway, why should the timing matter? When did it start getting bad?"

"For fuck's sake… I don't know… it's hard to remember."

For all his sighing and huffing, you'd think he had an actual injury instead of bad memories and a bruise on his arm from where Maka had punched him when she had woken up first. Emotions had been running a little high. "Stop acting all dramatic, you aren't dying."

"Aren't I? How is this any different from the cancer you humans get? Or syphilis or hepatitis or something."

"First of all, those are all very different things from one another. Second of all, all of those diseases have treatments. If you're going to compare this to a disease then we just need to make sure you get regular treatments to keep a handle on it. If there's no cure, that is." Maka couldn't help it. The need to follow up with more information was such an ingrained habit. "They found a cure for syphilis at the turn of the twentieth century, you know."

From Soul's annoyed groan, Maka had a feeling he hadn't known and didn't particularly care. He just wanted her to shut up so he could wallow in his misery and embarrassment a while longer. For once, Maka took the clue and let him have some peace. She had plenty to be thoughtful about on her own.

Stein had implied that the black blood was in direct conflict with her grigori soul's essence, and he'd be interested to see how her own infection progressed (or didn't). The black blood she'd seen tainting the red when he'd extracted a sample from her arm had given her the chills. If that test tube feeling had been Soul's reality with the good doctor the past few months no wonder he'd kept well away. Then there was Crona to think of, who had nearly sliced through the infirmary door an hour ago when they had learned she was there. How could she break it to her friend that the very blood in Crona's veins was toxic to every other entity on the planet? Someone had to tell Crona, and who else should it be than the one person they had grown to trust? That was a sticky problem for another day.

"Maka?"

"Yeah?" She held her breath, waiting for more from the partner that she had rescued from his own inner demons quite literally mere hours ago.

"Thanks."

Maka's breath slid through her teeth slowly, her heart aching from what she worried was an emotion for her partner she hoped would remain nameless.


	15. Chapter 14

So I sort of wanted an ending that didn't feel like an ending. I captured as much of year 1 of this scenario as I feel motivated for at the moment: Maka and Soul fully together as partners+. Need a new project to shoot some energy into me. I still like this premise but I'm suffering from an inability to draw. This really would have worked much better as a comic the more I thought about it. In some other reality I'd be a manga-ka but in this one all I can manage is expressive stick figures. Alas!

Thanks for reading and generally being supportive of this project! Who knows what form the next one will take. Soul and Maka are some rich emotional territory.

Disclaimer: see part 1

* * *

"Do you think I should take up smoking?" Maka closed the front door before she took a careful seat on the couch. It felt like a million degrees in here, due to the high humidity on a summer day that otherwise would have been picturesque. The desert was a dry heat, it didn't make you feel every inch of your skin like this.

Soul watched her survey the carnage in front of them, dabbing at various cuts that were still oozing blood on her cheek and forehead. They had a break here until they got the order to press ahead and take another quadrant in the "empty" suburb of Detroit that had been colonized by a small conglomerate of covens. The witch's soul still felt stuck in his throat, like when he was forced to take his pill without drinking enough water. Stein claimed they would help suppress the psychological effects of the black blood, like a supernatural antidepressant. Maka had mumbled something about placebos when Stein had thrown bottles at them both.

"What kind of fool question is that? I thought your body was a temple, or whatever." Soul tried not to let his new orange converse sneakers get in the blood that trailed from the kitchen into the living room. There was an arm lying next to some dirty dishes in the sink at the end of that rainbow, but considering it used to be a weird octopus tentacle he preferred the arm. "You won't even let us eat junk food on a regular basis."

Maka sighed and leaned back on the creaky old couch, the faded neon flowers strangely gross even compared to the dissolving outline of a body laying the fireplace resembling half a squid. The witch had been squatting in a residence that had been abandoned for some time, and once she had died so had the illusion of a well-appointed town house and the air conditioning to boot. "Stein smokes, and he's a doctor."

"Yeah but the only thing between Stein and an asylum is… Marie."

"He has a point, though, I mean we all die eventually." She shrugged in her death child way, totally ok with sentiments that other people would consider morbid. "Do you want me to buy more junk food?"

Soul hated it when Maka got like this. It was almost like she was playing with the idea of throwing all her carefully constructed ideals straight into the toilet lately. He wanted to blame the black blood infection she had been fighting since spring, but Stein had confirmed her as being totally in remission with not one drop of perceptible black blood left in any of a dozen samples in the past month. He had told her to stop getting tested before she made herself anemic.

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean you should. Since when does me wanting to do something bad actually convince you it's a good idea?" That wasn't the Maka he knew and admired down to her recently painted green toenails. Soul picked his way past the blood trails and crashed on the couch next to her like he would at home, only to get a spring that would probably turn out to be rusty poke him in the ass. He'd been so worried about his new sneakers it hadn't occurred to him his pants would be in danger.

"You going to let me see how bad it is, or are you going to sit there holding your breath like I didn't just see you do that?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Soul said darkly, futilely willing his ass cheek to stop hurting.

Maka actually smiled at him, something he hadn't see a whole lot of today and it went a lot farther to easing his pain than the string of curses in his head. "I heard your pants rip. Are you going to pretend like you're bashful and I haven't seen it before, or are you going to let me check your injury? Good thing you don't need a tetanus shot."

"Wouldn't smoking make it harder to run or something?" Time to get the focus off him; waiting here was uncomfortable enough without Maka making comments about his anatomy. He was already getting sweaty where his back had touched the accursed piece of furniture, and he wondered what had possessed him to wear the navy compression shirt Black Star had insisted he buy. Fashion tips from a guy who thought an Ed Hardy button up was formal wear could only lead to trouble. Slinging a casual arm behind Maka and brushing her bare shoulder absently, he lowered his voice a tad. "And other aerobic activities…"

Maka snorted out a quick laugh, which took the edge off of her words. "Don't be gross. Besides, doesn't it relax you? There has to be a reason people start smoking, and can't stop."

"I think addiction has something to do with it." Still touching her shoulder, he felt her shiver.

Never the most sensitive guy, Soul started to think that while they were talking about smoking they weren't really talking about smoking.

"It's just chemicals in the brain. You can block the receptors, the serotonin hit, and people still keep smoking. Maybe it's really about habit. You get used to something and then that is your baseline. You wake up and have a smoke because that what you always did, and not doing it would be unnatural."

Was she talking about fighting? About them? Literally about smoking? Shit, Soul wasn't prepared for this at 6pm on a Tuesday in the middle of summer while they were waiting for orders. Come to think on it, they were coming up hard on the anniversary of the day he become her weapon. Humans got all crazy about milestones like this, based on what he'd gleaned from all the movies and TV he had watched in the past year. Of course, he hadn't experienced anything nearly so dramatic as in movies. If his life was a movie then Wes would have died in some suspicious fashion and he'd have to avenge his murder. Or he and Maka and Crona would have had some sort of crazy love triangle. Or Kid would have turned out to be some evil mastermind and they had unknowingly been the bad guys all along.

That last one could still happen. It was hard to think of yourself as the good guys when a corpse had been oozing mere feet away from you at some point and you were casually chilling on the deceased's couch.

"Well, I guess you have a shitton of weird habits already, so what's one more? Even if it made you stink."

"Excuse me? _I_ have weird habits? Name three!" Maka had staunched the bleeding on her face but her gesticulating opened up a smaller cut on her arm that she then dabbed at while shooting Soul dark looks.

This was not a winning conversation, but she had asked and Soul wasn't going to disappoint her. "You keep a sword next to your umbrella, and I swear there's a grenade in the bathroom cupboard next to a bath bomb."

"Camouflage." Maka replied simply.

"You call a lawyer once a week to change your last will and testament. It's weird. Usually when people say 'you're out of the will' they don't make a call the next day."

"Hell if I'm giving Black Star our new TV after he decided to ambush me during Crona's reading hour! Besides, in our line of work it pays to keep a will up to date."

Soul tickled her shoulder with the tips of his fingers and Maka wiggled away from them and closer to his body. "It's totally logical and totally weird." Sitting this close to her, he could almost forget the puncture wound in his ass. He wasn't going to try anything funny while in this hell hole, but he wondered how twisted he was becoming that he had to remind himself that was inappropriate.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"I said name three, you named two." She wielded that fact like she had de facto won the argument due to insufficient evidence on his part.

Maybe human nostalgia was contagious because he was transported back to the moment he had first met her, injured and triumphant in that stinking basement. Soul chewed on the inside of his cheek absently, giving her the same considering glance from head to toe, but slower now than then, heated. Maka looked confused at his silence, but then tuning into the direction of his mood a blush spread high across her cheeks as her spine stiffened. If they'd signed a contract in blood, the way they should have from the start, would things have been different? Would this have been more professional than personal?

"Did you ever wonder what life would have been like if we partnered when we were younger?"

"You're changing the subject because you can't think of a third thing." Maka, dogged to the end, wasn't ready to let him slide away. He tickled her shoulder more to make her wiggle. With an arch look she finally answered his question. "I was still learning how to hunt and fight then. I wouldn't have been as skilled. And we would have had to live through one another's teenage years. Bad enough to be a teenager without knowing it's up to you to protect humanity from chaos incarnate."

Soul gave a slow smile as she ticked off downsides on each of her fingers. "Whatever. It could have been cool." He had successfully herded her nearly into his side, and it would only take a little push to have her fall into his lap. While Soul wrestled with his own withering morals, he was saved a decision by the front door being knocked open so forcefully one of the hinges came loose.

"Ok ladies! Tea time is over, get your asses in gear!" Black Star, looking untouched by battle if you discounted a huge darkening bruise over his bicep in the form of a hand print, galvanized Maka immediately. She already had on her partially ripped coat and was pulling on a pair of new gloves from a small zipper pocket near the back of her jacket just as Soul finally hauled his aching ass off the couch.

Pointedly, he was trying not to look at Black Star's face because he had a sinking feeling the mocking leer that was radiating from his sometimes dudebro said much too much about how that scene on the couch had looked to an outsider. Nostalgia was a trap for romantic idiots and he had fallen headfirst into it.

Maybe nostalgia wasn't the trap, maybe it was just Maka.

* * *

 _You think they know?_

"What?" Maka hissed under her breath from her position behind a tree. Soul had transformed since there was no camouflage that would sufficiently hide his shockingly white hair or glowing red eyes in the twilight that was descending on the quiet neighborhood they were stalking their way through. Sid himself had taught Maka how to utilize her surroundings and blend. Then again, Sid had also taught Black Star, so some of the aptitude came from the pupil as well as the teacher. But Maka's zen-like oneness with her surroundings was getting jarred by Soul's questions.

 _Black Star, when we got into the car, he said something about… nevermind._

"Tell me…" Boarded up windows above them meant there was more danger in moving the foliage around than being seen from the ranch hour they were in front of.

 _I'm just hallucinating because stakeouts are as boring as shit. Nothing going on yet?_

Across the street in a smart looking little brick house with an American flag waving in the front, lights were being switched on. Any moment all hell would break loose, but for the moment it was a study in normalcy.

"We're holding position." But Soul couldn't dangle information in her face and then not tell her. That wasn't something she could live with. "What did Black Star say?"

 _His initials are BS for a reason._

"Soul." She put as much sharpness into her whispered tone as she could. The pause in which she wondered if he was ignoring her was starting to get her temper flaring. On the outside Maka was perfectly calm and still with her feet under a bush and her body leaning against a tree, but there was no mistaking her slow boil through their connection. She didn't even try to hide it. Maka wanted answers, and by Death she would get them.

 _Something about you riding my motorcycle all night long._

Maka tried not to be angry, tried being the operative word. The problem was the anger wasn't at Soul, for finding what had to be least opportune moment to broach this topic, or even Black Star for being a vulgar idiot—all the anger was directed inward at herself. It was a quick spiral from 'Black Star knows' down to 'everyone must know' and took a brief detour down 'I wonder if my papa knows' before landing at the chilling 'mama must have known before anyone else knew.' None of that made sense, and Maka knew she was grounding her findings in emotional fears rather than empirical evidence. The most startling thing of all was how little she actually cared about what other people thought the longer she lived with the idea.

And absolutely none of this had anything to do with the battle she was about to run headlong into against an unknown number of witches that had holed up in the tiny bunker across the street. Once everyone was in position and the recon team had confirmed a headcount they would attack. Until then Maka only had her own brain to fight with. Emotion was winning.

"Black Star is an idiot." It was a statement murmured into the wind and so obviously true that Soul didn't find anything else to comment on for another couple minutes. The twilight faded a little more towards darkness, the evening simply going from humid to muggy, as they lost the day.

 _What would you do if people found out about us?_

It seemed so innocent, asked in a mental tone so carefully neutral that Maka almost blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. The cold sweat that resulted from even thinking those particular words tied her tongue. She hadn't thought her emotions were so many steps ahead of her brain. This was much more serious than she had ever expected it to be. She had been royally stupid to think that someone who touched her body and soul could be isolated from her heart.

"I, uh,—hold on." Her phone buzzed against her leg, and she was saved sticking her foot farther into her mouth by Sid's clear voice proclaiming that there were only three birds in the nest.

A blue streak was already crashing through the roof of the brick house at top speed while Maka stood up and gripped Soul more firmly. Her cloudy mind sharpened in anticipation of violence. Waiting that extra couple of seconds also helped her duck behind the tree when all the pretty picture windows in the front of the house exploded towards the opposite side of the street along with a ridiculously grinning Black Star. With a spinning maneuver that acted to sling shot him back to the front door of the house, Black Star headed back into danger with Maka on his heels.

"YAHOO!" Came what had to be the least fearsome battle cry on the planet, but Maka following behind her friend as they dodged skeletal hands popping up from the well-kept lawn to arrest their forward momentum.

With a number of low sweeping movements Maka neatly separated wrists from bony arms as skeletons continued to attempt to rise from the ground. Kid would be pissed that the witches were practicing defensive necromancy, and she took careful notes in her mind even as they dodged spines from the broken windows that looked a lot like barbed javelins.

What seemed like several swarms of bees took off out of the hole in the roof Black Star had pioneered, Maka noted Kim and Jackie rocket after it from their perch in the tree leaving behind charred branches. The bee witch had to rest some time, and Kim would be on her. Fire and smoke against bees seemed like an easy win for her pink haired associate. The porcupine witch was irritating, but her missiles were at least large enough to dodge fairly easily. Once the light of evening was gone, however, dodging them would be difficult so they needed to get in close. Black Star and Kilik were fastest, and they were on the porcupine together, keeping her from launching more of those spines while Maka finished up with the skeletons in the front yard. Sid was presumably watching the exits, so either engaging in battle or flushing out the third would both be successful strategies. Maka slid into the house and tried to sense the witch's soul, but getting nothing but the one in the living room. Soul protect was the bane of her life.

 _Well?_

They had edged into the dark hallway toward the back of the house. "I think she went for the bathroom since I don't see a basement door. Get ready, I'm going to kick the door in."

 _That isn't what…_ There was a significant pause, followed by: _Yeah it's a good plan. Do that._

He sounded pissy. Their resonance wasn't wavering, but he managed to be dissatisfied with her at the same time anyway. There wasn't enough room in Maka's mind for killing and relationship questions simultaneously, a jarring combination that was throwing her off her training. If she could sit around all smug and thoughtful while Soul bludgeoned people to death with her body, maybe she'd have a different perspective. Time wasted arguing about _feelings_ was time that witch could be preparing to attack them.

"Stop being such an idiot," she blurted out hastily under her breath, as she got ready to kick in the door. The kick demolished the flimsy door and thin shelf blockade that had been behind it. Thick boots for the win! "You know I couldn't go on without you." The intensity of her emotions bled into their connection—truth without precise words.

Soul's blade suddenly went so hot and huge with energy as she swung him into the narrow bathroom that she brought the whole roof down in that corner of the house. Buried in rubble, tile, plaster, and with water shooting out from broken pipes, Maka was trapped and angry as a wet cat. She watched what looked like some sort of giant salamander scramble out the narrow window and no doubt disappear into the back yard, minus a good swath of wiggling tail that she noted in the decimated bathtub to her right.

"Way to dial it up to 11 Albarn!" Black Star said as he gave her a hand to struggle out of the rubble a few minutes later once the fighting in the other room had ceased. Soul had gone conveniently still and silent, as if embarrassed that he'd been practically made of pure plasma previously. "But it's way cooler when you catch more of the witch than some gross tail." Tsubaki was removing rubble from around Soul, careful not to pick him up while he was in weapon form.

"At least I didn't have to attack mine two on one like you and Kilik. By the way, you have a spine in your shoulder." Maka coughed at him, wringing out her wet jacket onto the hallway floor, hoping the broken ground wouldn't give way down into the foundation. She was wet and dirty already.

"What?" Black Star only just seemed to notice what looked like half a broken javelin protruding from his shoulder and out his back. "Oh. Ha ha, shit."

* * *

While they waited for some of the younger hunters in training to come clean up the scene, Maka sat on the front porch of the house she'd done some amateur bathroom remolding to, and tried to look disapproving while Black Star danced away from Nygus and Tsubaki. The demon women were trying to convince him that they needed to get the spine out of him and check for poison, while Black Star was convinced they should leave it alone until he had access to either a bottle of tequila or a whole lot of painkillers. Tsubaki was trying to liken it to pulling out a splinter, (if a splinter had a barbed spine at one end) when Soul sat down on the steps next to Maka with a grimace.

"How's the war wound? We could buy you a hemorrhoid pillow when we get home." She scrubbed at some of the caked dirt on her face with the heel of her palm, hard and itchy from getting wet and drying off again.

"A what?" Soul looked at Maka in confusion while she sighed—yet another thing demons never had to deal with: hemorrhoids.

It was like some curse, her inability to make people laugh. "Forget it."

Other than a couple lights left undestroyed in the house, and one streetlamp, the rest of the neighborhood was overgrown, boarded up, and dead dark. The lack of light let them see the stars brighter than from their apartment at home. It would have been peaceful if not for the stark white bones and fragments of skeletons all over the lawn and the caterwauling from Star. Kilik had found the water line control with the help of the twins and shut it off, so there wasn't even the incessant gurgling coming from the back of the house.

"We're going to get reprimanded for losing the witch, you know." Maka mentioned it casually, not really minding failure for once. That huge glowing arch Soul had transformed into screamed pure power, and if he could do it once he could do it again. That was a win in her book, even if this battle hadn't gone the way she wanted.

"I'm surprised you let getting buried alive stop you. We could be running through poison oak and blackberries hunting down that witch right now." Soul spoke casually, but his body looked tense as he placed one smooth too warm hand over hers. Publicly. Affectionately.

Maka felt her insides recoil, knowing that everyone would be here soon and feeling a familiar fear of discovery. But then, if now was the time for bravery, she'd take all her lumps at once. Might as well be reprimanded for all her crazy decisions in one night. It was an impulsive move, but one that had been a while in the making. "Easy for you to say, demon metal doesn't react to poison oak. And you were way too pleased to put that cream on my legs before."

Kilik looked over at them, arching a curious eyebrow at their linked hands and Maka pointedly didn't pull away from Soul as she felt the weight of that gaze. She had been fighting all her life, this didn't seem any different. Let the judgement come, Soul was more important to her than other people's shallow disapproval. Maybe she'd take up smoking too and call it a day.

"Papa's going to murder you, you know." Maka leaned over and planted a solid kiss on Soul's lips before taking her now clammy hand back from his to brush more plaster from her hair. If she got up the guts she might have more tender words for him later tonight, but for now this was all the truth she could offer.

Soul was visibly shaking, shocked somehow, as he gave an all too casual laugh. His emotions were clearly too scrambled for him to know what to do next. He settled on doing nothing, a default for him so predictable Maka wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or hit him.

"You taste like dry wall."

"Shut up, Soul."


End file.
